


Across The World (And Back)

by Dragoniz



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, F/M, Fluff, Slight Canon Divergence, Spoilers for seasons 1 - 5, You Have Been Warned, more explicit in later chapters, season 5
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-02-25 17:58:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2630951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragoniz/pseuds/Dragoniz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reader meets a man who claims he's an angel. And then, he proves it.</p><p>Castiel/Reader</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Across The World

"You okay?" You asked, raising a brow at the trenchcoat-wearing man. He blinked a few times and put whatever he'd been staring so intently at into his pocket, then turned to look at you.

He stared into your eyes for a moment and frowned, "I'm fine."

With that he abruptly walked off in the opposite direction from where he'd come. You set down the book you'd been skimming through and followed him curiously toward the back of the library. Most of the time when you came to the library you people-watched more than you read, and this was one of those rare times when someone interesting entered. Unlike most people who went to your hometown's biggest library on a friday evening, this man had an aura of impatience about him; not to mention the fact that he frequently, almost religiously, pulled out something from his pocket to stare at it every few seconds. None of the surrounding patrons' judging eyes seemed to bother him either. After mentally deciding that he probably was not an escaped mental patient, you created a goal for yourself to find out who he was.

"What's your name?" You called as you hurried to catch up at his quick pace. He wandered into the elevator and you stepped inside with him.

"Castiel."

You both sat silently for a few moments. You told him your name and as he reached his hand into his pocket, but you spoke before he looked down at it, "Why do you keep doing that, Castiel?"

He gave you the same frown from before. His emotionlessness was starting to dwell on your energy.

"Doing what?"

Trying to avoid any more awkwardness, you hesitantly reached into his pocket and showed him what you were seeing clearly for the first time. It was some kind of necklace with a golden amulet hanging at the end.

"Looking at," you gestured with your free hand to it, "this. What is it?"

"It's my friend's." He muttered, tugging it from you grasp and shoving it back into his coat.

Your brow furrowed, "Are you expecting it to come to life or something?"

As if in answer, the elevator dinged and the doors opened on the ground floor. You followed Castiel out of them and all the way out the front door of the building with plenty unanswered questions. The contempt he threw towards you wasn't enough to get you to go away, so he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and turned around, "I don't have time for this. I'm sorry, but I need you to...screw off."

Taken aback, you frowned, "Excuse you?"

He averted his gaze and sighed, "It's a phrase my friend taught me."

"I'm not sure I like your friend, Castiel."

He closed his eyes in frustration and continued to frown when he opened them, "You cannot follow me any longer. You will be presented with imminent danger if you do."

You grinned, "Imminent danger sounds exciting."

"It's not."

He stared right at you for a short while, but you could not be deterred. You figured he guessed as much, because he looked away and took a breath, "Alright, you may join me for a while. But if you do you'll need to know the truth."

And before you could open your mouth to give a comment about how 'all ears' you were, he spoke the truth, "I'm an angel."

You raised a brow, "Yeah, and I'm the tooth fairy."

His frustration emanated the closer he got to you, which you hadn't realized he'd been doing until his face was inches above yours, "The amulet I carry burns in the presence of God."

You leaned away from him and frowned in disappointment, "Dammit. Every time I meet someone fun they're either crazy, obsessed with Jesus, or all of the above." You glanced warily at him, "You happen to fit into the third category. Not to mention you think you're an angel--"

"Look me in the eyes and tell me I'm crazy." He commanded.

You wanted to leave and forget about the whole encounter, but something about the intensity of his stare told you he at least  _thought_ he was telling the truth. And the further you went on talking to him, the more time you wanted to spend with him and find out just how he turned out thinking he was some perfect, winged creature.

"OK, let's go." He said and turned on his heel once again. You jogged to catch up and walked along with him to wherever he was headed. For now, that happened to be a side street devoid of people.

You sent him a questioning stare, "You aren't going to try to sell me drugs, are--"

But before you could say "you," the environment around you had changed completely. The flickering street lights had been replaced with bright neon signs. The dusty, abandoned buildings were now 40-floor skyscrapers. Oh, and it was snowing. In august.

You gasped and grabbed Castiel's arm to keep from fainting. Your head spun slightly at the sudden change and your stomach was doing flips from whatever ride you'd just taken to get to wherever the Hell you were.

Castiel held your shoulders to keep you steady, "Are you alright?"

"Where the Hell are we?" You managed to sputter out the one thing you'd been thinking.

You swore you saw a smirk flicker mischievouslyonto his face for a moment, "Sydney, Australia."

You took a deep breath and took it all in now, but didn't move to take his hands from your shoulders. His touch was the only thing assuring you that you weren't dreaming or horribly delusional. And of course, you glanced to your right and to see a very familiarly shaped opera house in the distance.

"...Okay, am I crazy?"

He tilted his head, "Why would you be mentally ill? I told you I'm an angel and I proved it to you by taking you across the world."

You closed your eyes and breathed slowly, "Yeah, I'm crazy."

Castiel waited silently until you opened your eyes. He had the same look of concern that he'd had when he chose to prove his angelicy to you, which worried you more than a little. You held up your arms in protest and he finally dropped his hands back to his sides, "No no no! I mean, no need to prove anything else. I just...I need a minute, okay?"

He looked confused, but he nodded. You thanked him and sat down on a bench that just happened to overlook half of the large city of Sydney. For the first time you seriously considered everything he'd said. He couldn't be an angel...but he had to be. What else could throw you across an ocean with a snap of the fingers? And what he said about the amulet couldn't be true...could it? Thankfully Castiel sat next to you on the bench and interrupted your self-barrage before you could actually drive yourself crazy.

"It has been a minute."

You glanced at his serious face and felt yourself smile, "You counted?"

He nodded grimly. When you chuckled and shook your head he went back to his confused expression, "Did I do something funny?"

"Yes...well, no. I suppose you were doing exactly what I asked you to." When he didn't respond, you allowed your curiosity to get the best of you -- something you didn't allow to happen too often, "Castiel...if you're an angel, can I ask why you're carrying around an amulet that burns in the presence of God? Shouldn't you be checking for it to be burning in Heaven and not Earth?"

His stared down at the city below, "No. Things are...complicated at the moment when it comes to God," he paused, "And Lucifer, but that's a different story."

"Lucifer?" you almost smiled, "Like...Satan, Lucifer?"

He looked at you as if willing you to take every word he spoke seriously, "Yes. That Lucifer."

Your brain was taking in too much information at once. Not only had you shrugged off suddenly appearing in Australia, but now you were shrugging off anything this man said to you. If Castiel was annoyed by this he didn't show it, but you wouldn't be surprised to find out you were not the only person he'd ever tried to convince of the existence of so many supernatural beings.

His gaze shifted back to the neon lights gazing up from the city below, "And now that this is happening, only God will be able to stop Lucifer."

You dared to ask, "What's happening?"

"The apocalypse."

You stood from the bench and clapped your hands together loudly, "Alright, that's quite enough of that. You've obviously proven your sanity to me, now take me back home so I can...enjoy the apocalypse."

Castiel stood up next to you ( _next to_ , as in "I need a bubble of personal space"  _next to_ ) and tilted his head again, "Are you sure you wouldn't prefer to stay here?"

"I'm sure."

You glanced over his shoulder for a moment, and when you looked back at his face you were back in the top floor of the library at home. Once again you felt dizzy and slightly nauseated, but now you knew to expect it. Castiel steadied you unnecessarily to make sure you were okay. You shrugged him off and glanced around quickly to assure yourself that you weren't in some other part of the world.

He pulled the necklace from his pocket and glanced at it momentarily, then put it back and looked seriously at you, "I should go."

"Right, er..." Since you didn't exactly know how you felt about that, you didn't exactly know how to answer. As usual, he seemed to pick up on your thoughts and gave you a small, but reassuring, smile. Somehow it made you feel better seeing his smile than noting the seriousness of his voice.

He took a deep breath and looked from your eyes, to the enclosing bookshelves, and back to your eyes again, "Just...one more thing before I leave."

When you opened you mouth to respond, Castiel closed the distance between the two of you by pushing his lips onto yours. Taken by surprise, you nearly knocked over a shelf or two of neatly stacked books, but Castiel's arms caught you waist and balanced you. Without much hesitation you felt your eyes close and your lips move along with his to return the kiss. He moved one of his hands up your back and you moved your arms to rest around his neck. As the kiss got more passionate you moved your hands to his hair and his grasp on you became tighter and tighter. It didn't take you long to realize he wasn't planning on coming up for air anytime soon, and despite how badly you didn't want to move your lungs willed you to breathe.

Finally you pulled away, gasping for air with a dumb smile on your face. You closed your eyes and leaned against the bookshelf, still breathing intensely and smiling like an idiot, "You know, if there's one way to get me to believe you're an inhuman being, it's a kiss like  _that_." When he didn't respond, you opened your eyes and looked back to the place he'd been standing.

Castiel was gone.


	2. Lost in Translation

One month.

Now, in comparison to a year or a decade or a millenia, one month is nothing; however, when you reach a point in life where the hours drag into days, the days into weeks, the weeks into months, etc...one month is a Hell of a long time.

And that's how long you'd been without Castiel.

After your entire encounter in the library (and Australia, but let's be honest, that's a measly detail) and Castiel's disappearance, you'd gone home in a daze. You began to question everything you'd ever known:  _Since angels are real, aren't demons? And if demons are real, how many other inane myths are true? And does all this mean I go to Hell when I die for not believing in the first place? How much of the Bible is correct? How much is horribly wrong?_ You'd actually left yourself with so many unanswerable questions that you'd gone to the internet and the library and dozens of local churches to find the answers, but you knew that the only way you'd get a straight answer, or at least a correct one, was by asking the only angel you'd briefly had the pleasure of knowing.

And that ass had left you in the dark for an entire month. The only good thing to come out of the situation was arguably the best kiss of your life.

Unfortunately though in you current situation, the linger of the memory of a kiss could in no way bring you peace. As usual, you were performing (menial) every tasks and having a minor existential crisis during each. While you payed the bills, you wondered about God's Plan or a lack thereof; while you flipped through TV channels and ordered pizza, you contemplated how many supernatural beings you must have unknowingly come across in your lifetime; and now, as you did the dishes, your brain torturously played over that one evening with that one angel, as it often did.

Which is why it took you a moment to come out of your daze when you saw someone standing at the back of the room through the reflection of one of your spoons. Slowly and carefully, you acted as if you'd seen nothing and carefully picked the clean steak knife from the counter. Just as you pulled it from the sink (all the while, by the way, with a heart rate of 126 and horrified anticipation of a deer in the headlights) and prepared to turn around, the figure said the last thing you'd expected it to:

"(y/n)."

Your name. The knife clattered to the floor rather dramatically. You whipped around and felt the blood rush from your face, then back.

"Castiel?"

The angel stepped into the better lit area to reveal his face, which he probably should have done in the first place, and nodded. You couldn't believe how much you actually missed that emotionless face. You jumped over the kitchen table and hugged him so tightly he asked you to let go so he could breathe. You allowed tears to well to your eyes and a smile to show up, but when Castiel smiled back you snapped.

And then you slapped him across the face.

"Do you know..." you began in a building rage, stepping back to look at his face but also holding onto his coat as if to reassure his actuality, "how long it's been? One month. An entire month, Cas. I thought you were a figment of my imagination. If I had the money for it I would have gone straight to freaking therapy. And the questions that I couldn't find answers to because of you...it was torture. It was like waking up one day and spending it with you idol, but then he disappears and no matter how real it felt, you have to wonder if it was all a dream. I had no one to turn to -- not even a priest would believe that an angel dropped down on Earth to take me on vacation and then make out with me in a library. This has been...the worst month of my life, Castiel."

It would be an exaggeration to say he looked sorry. Maybe unhappy, maybe concerned, and maybe even understanding, but not sorry. Still, the next words that came out of his mouth were a slow, painful uttering of, "I'm sorry."

You breathed deeply to calm yourself. Your arms wrapped themselves back around him and your eyes closed to savor the feeling, "Just...please don't do that to me again, okay? Don't drop a bombshell like that and leave me alone for a month to wallow."

He paused to be sure you were finished and responded, "I won't. I promise."

You waited for a moment before pulling away and gesturing for him to sit on the small couch in the next room over. Your apartment wasn't exactly a class-A joint, but at least you took pride in it. You turned the news down to low volume and tried to sit down next to him without looking as awkward as he did.

"Where have you been, anyway? What have you been doing?" You inquired, hoping to bring him in slowly and get him to tell you something you weren't supposed to know.

"Searching for God and helping to delay the apocalypse."

You blinked in astonishment. Apparently a month was enough to forget how blunt he was, "Okay, I'm trying hard to believe you now but...I'm gonna need you to explain the whole apocalypse thing."

For the next hour or so, he went into great detail about everything from Michael to Lucifer and then Dean to Sam. He explained how Michael needed Dean and how Lucifer needed Sam. He also went into detail about his "search for God" and that the only reason he'd been in the library a month ago was because he had to check the highest point in the town to be sure God's presence wasn't just not being detected. When he told you about his fall/rebellion from Heaven, you lit up with questions about how and why -- none of which he was too keen to answer, but they all led back to keeping Dean and Sam alive in their own bodies and ideally halting the events that would surely lead to the end of the world. After that he went into a few other details about angels and the Bible to satisfy you.

"It's kind of a lot to take in." You commented, rewinding and replaying most of the things he'd said in your head.

"I understand." He responded, sitting now more casually than he had been before. His attention seemed to be fleeting between you and the newscast, "Is that why you prayed for me?"

You raised a brow and gave a look of confusion, "Prayed for you? Cas, I don't pray at all."

His body and attention turned to you, "You did. Probably not out loud, but you did. I wouldn't have come otherwise."

The spite you'd felt earlier was beginning to build up again. You stood from the couch and warned him with your expression, "Are you saying that if I didn't think about you, you never would've come? You would have just  _left me here and never come back_?"

"Yes." Your face must have made him realize his mistake in a one word answer, so he corrected himself, "Well, technically I didn't have to come at all. Not many people pray for me, but I am perfectly capable of ignoring those who do."

The anger boiled down a little after that, and that was all it took to get you calm again. You sat back down and sighed, looking at him seriously, "Then...thank you, Castiel."

He nodded and squinted at the television screen. Some woman was speaking in Spanish and the subtitles were along the lines of "he was killed by Abraham Lincoln."

"They really a need a better Spanish translator," you muttered, holding up the remote and hitting the power button.

Cas continued to stare at the screen after it went blank. You waved a hand in front of his face and held a tone of concern, "...Are you okay?"

He blinked a few times, as if re-entering the real world, and glanced at you, "Hm? I'm fine."

"So..." your subconscious told you it was as good a time as any to bring it up, "When you were here a month ago, you kissed me right before you left."

"I remember."

You let out a breath, "Why'd you do it? You don't really seem like the lovey-dovey type."

"I was..." he glanced at you and back to the TV again, "sort of testing something. I wanted to know what it was like. To be honest I don't see what everyone sees in it."

You grinned, "Wait, so I was your first kiss?"

He nodded in confirmation and you continued with a smile, "What exactly do you remember about it?"

"Mostly saliva." He stated matter-of-factly. You giggled and he looked at you in confusion. You shook your head, still smiling, "You just sound like a kid who's convinced girls have cooties. It's kind of adorable."

The confusion did not move from his expression, "What are cooties?"

You actually laughed now and he looked so strained with frustration you had to explain, "They aren't real, don't worry. When humans are small we tend to be afraid of the unknown, and that includes the opposite gender. So we kind of...create stories to keep our innocence."

He was trying to comprehend the analogy but just did not seem to be getting it, "What does this have to do with 'adorableness'?"

Holy crap you could not stop smiling, "You're cute, Castiel. You're gonna have to accept that."

He shook his head slowly to dismiss the conversation. When he stood up from the couch you lost your sense of humor and, almost instinctively, grabbed his hand. You answered before he could ask, "You are not going to ditch me here for another month. If you're leaving, you're taking me with you."

"I already told you, it's dangerous," he warned.

You shook your head and grinned slightly, "And I told you, danger is exciting." You paused and looked him in the eye, "You promised you wouldn't leave me alone here."

"For a month." He corrected solemnly.

"Are you taking me with you or not?"

He answered by doing exactly that. A familiar feeling hit and everything around you changed. Instead of being in your apartment, you were suddenly surrounded by new walls and sounds and smells. Not to mention the overly-surprised looking man in a wheelchair. You leaned onto Castiel to help the dizziness pass.

"Cas, who the Hell is this?" He demanded, reaching for a shotgun.

"This is (y/n). I need you to teach her..." the angel gestured toward the numerous books aligned on the walls, "...everything."

The man looked from you, to Cas, then to you again with astonishment, "And why would I do that?"

Castiel sighed, "As a favor. When I return I'll remove the burden of her presence."

You didn't hide your offense, "Hey, thanks Cas."

The moment after you spoke you removed your weight from the angel (now that the room was straight again) and he immediately disappeared. You looked awkwardly at the wheelchaired man.

"Well," he sighed in defeat, "Let's get started."


	3. Damn That Abomination

"How can you be transformed into a vampire?"

"By drinking it's blood."

"How do you kill a trickster?"

"Wooden stake to the heart."

"What's a demon look like?"

"Black eyes, leaves sulfur everywhere, and probably has one  _Hell_ of an attitude."

"...Alright kid, I'm impressed."

You threw your hands into the air and spun around in the chair you were sitting on with a cheer. Yet again, you'd managed to pass one of Bobby's quizzes over everything he'd taught you. Not only had you caught on quickly, but apparently you were a natural when it came to all things non-human. Over the last week, since Castiel left you with Bobby, he'd gone over the basics, then the complicated stuff, then the myths and theories, and then combat training. You weren't exactly the greatest at target practice, but at least you could now hit the target instead of the trees around it.

He pushed his wheelchair over to the fridge and pulled out a beer. He offered you one but you shook your head no, since you'd never really been a drinker. He took a sip from the bottle and went over to finish reading one of the lore books he'd started earlier that day. When he noticed you disassembling and reassembling a pistol with a great amount of self-pride, he spoke up, "Any idea when that friend of yours is gonna show up and get you outta my hair yet?"

"Not a clue; just like yesterday, Bobby." You reminded him of the recurring question. You knew he was half joking, because even if he wouldn't admit it he enjoyed the company, but you of all people knew how annoying it was when someone left you with a huge burden and didn't acknowledge it for long periods of time. Perhaps it was about time, however, that you actually tried to disrupt whatever "business" Castiel had and brought his attention back to you, "I'll pray for him tonight."

Bobby's grunt must have signified a thanks. You didn't talk for the next few hours and since the TV was broken you were resorted to reading pile after of pile of books. It wasn't that you didn't like reading (in fact you enjoyed it greatly) but most of the stories in Bobby's house weren't stories at all, but lore and history books and diaries about all sorts of different creatures. After a while the words all started to mix together and you wondered how someone could do nothing but read and answer phones all day, every day. Of course, maybe the only reason you thought that's what Bobby spent his time doing is because that's exactly what he wanted you to think. You tried not to focus on that thought too much.

At around 11, a knock sounded at the front door. You looked up from the knife collection you were admiring and Bobby wheeled his way to the door, shotgun in hand behind his back. Part of you ignorantly hoped it would be Castiel, but it didn't come as much of a surprise when two hunters were standing there instead. They greeted Bobby with smiles and entered as if they were in their own home. It took a moment for the gears to move in your brain, but you realized these were the two men that Cas and Bobby had told you so much about: Sam and Dean.

The tall(er) one noticed you first and went straight for the knife on his belt. You stood abruptly and held out your palms defensively, "Whoa, hey! It's alright I'm cool."

He looked to Bobby for confirmation. Bobby put his shotgun back down and nodded once in your direction, "Sam, Dean, this is (y/n). She's a friend of that damned angel."

The short(er) one said, "Cas?"

You nodded and smiled to try and ease the tension. They didn't smile back. The one who'd reached for his knife kept his hand there, "You check her for everything?"

"She's been here a week." Bobby commented with a roll of his eyes, pushing himself past them and toward his desk, "Will you calm down and introduce yourselves already?"

They look confused, but the giant one finally took his hand from his knife and greeted you with a smile. He walked over to shake your hand, "I'm Sam."

You couldn't stop yourself from grinning, "Castiel refers to you as an 'abomination'."

Sam stopped smiling but Dean belly laughed and moved over to shake your hand as well, "I like you. If you hadn't guessed it already, I'm Dean."

"You guys are...taller than I imagined." You stated truthfully.

Dean turned and walked over to the fridge in search of alcohol. He called at you from the kitchen, "You know, you kinda remind me of Cas." He peered over from around the fridge and winked, "But pretty."

Sam sighed and took a seat across from you at the table. He eyed the knives you were observing, "You a hunter?"

You shook your head, "God no. I didn't know about any of this stuff until I met Castiel. I learned most of the details from Bobby, though."

He tilted his head in interest, "What's it like? Being introduced to this lifestyle, I mean. Even if you aren't a hunter it's gotta be...overwhelming."

"At first it was." You laughed dryly, "But once you realize that almost your entire life you'd been blind to half the world, it makes you curious. I don't think anybody who encounters a monster and survives will just forget about it."

"And that's how hunters are born." Dean chuckled as he moved across the room toward Bobby. Bobby interjected before he could reach him, "You boys gonna tell me why you're here?"

Sam looked over your shoulder at him and answered, "The closest hunt is two states away and we felt like taking a breather for a night. That okay?"

Bobby sighed, "I suppose so. I haven't had this many people in my house for a while. It's annoying."

Dean muttered something you were too far away to hear and lounged across the couch. You tried listening in on his and Bobby's conversation for a moment, but they were speaking too quietly for you to make out any reasonable collaborations of words. Sam had to ask a question twice before getting your attention and you'd still only heard the end of it.

"Sorry, what?"

He shook his head and smiled, "How do you know Cas?"

A little startled by the random question, it took you a moment to compose your answer, "I met him while he was searching for God about a month and a half ago. It's probably what he's doing now."

Sam nodded and glanced warily at Dean -- probably because it was his necklace being used, but you couldn't be sure.

You all sat around and talked for a while. You were the first to retire to bed at 12:30. You went across the house to the guest room you'd been staying in since you'd arrived and shut to wooden door behind you. It wasn't the greatest, but it was ten times better than any apartment you'd ever had. Plus you were more thankful for Bobby's hospitality than you'd been for your own parents' during your childhood, so you acted as a good house guest.

Your back hit the bed with a thud and you let your eyes shut. You kicked off your shoes and relaxed for a few minutes, then sat up with eyes still closed and "prayed" for Castiel. If you were being honest with yourself, you knew it wasn't the first time you'd tried that week. Two days after he'd left you'd briefly called for the angel to keep you busy, but it wasn't overly incredible when you received no reply. Now, however, you had actually invested yourself in the idea of Cas showing up and telling you what he was up to. You tried to do what you'd done the second time you saw him, which was just thinking about him and willing him to come to your side. Now you even spoke aloud by saying, "Spare me the theatricals and get your ass over here."

But of course, an angel had duties to attend to that didn't include bothering with human prayers. More than a little spiteful, you clicked off the lamp on the bedside table and cuddled under the covers of the bed. The late September weather was more chilly than you'd anticipated and the draft in the room didn't help. Your shivers were forgotten, though, when you found yourself drifting from reality and soon dreaming about demons.

 

 

Whoever awoke you did not feel the need to coax you awake. This came as no surprise when Castiel stood over you, looking as solemn as usual. He had shaken your arm until you woke up and was not exactly civil about it. You sat up and checked the clock (which read a gloomy 3:30 AM) and motioned for him to sit on the bed with you. He did, but ignored the grateful smile on your face.

"Why did you tell me to come here?"

You sighed and dropped your smile, "I need to know when you're taking me off Bobby's hands. I can't stay here forever, believe it or not."

He nodded, "I believe it. But if I took you with me now you'd just slow me down."

"Thanks." you muttered sarcastically. He furrowed his brow in confusion and you waved it off, "I need a date, Cas."

He thought for a moment and unconsciously leaned his weight back on his arms. You wouldn't tell him, but you found it cute when he behaved more casually than usual.

"Three days." He said confidently, looking you in the eye.

You considered it and nodded, "Fine, three days. I want you to know though, I might not be here."

"Then where--"

"I'm going to ask the Winchesters if I can go on a hunt with them." You interrupted.

He looked as surprised as he could be, "Really?"

"Really. I'm pretty sure that at this point I can kill anything that walks through that door." You nodded toward the oak door, "Well, in theory."

He stared at you as he thought about it. You awkwardly averted his gaze for a while and when it became apparent that he wasn't going to voice his opinion on the subject, you changed it.

"Why weren't you here when I...prayed for you?" you questioned.

"I was busy."

You rolled your eyes, "Aren't you always?" he opened his mouth to answer, but you stopped him, "That was rhetorical."

He closed his mouth and stared at you again. You looked away uncomfortably and he noticed, "Why aren't you looking me in the eye?"

You scoffed, "Well you neglected to mention when I met you that you can read minds."

Once again his expression went to its default "confused face", "What does it matter?"

"To me..." you started, "My thoughts are kind of all I've got. They're private and I'd like them to stay that way."

Without hesitation, he nodded, "Okay."

You found yourself constantly astonished by Castiel, "That's it? You're just going to not do it?"

He shrugged, "If you don't like it, I won't do it."

You smiled, but it faltered, "How do I know you aren't lying?"

Once again, he shrugged. This bothered you more than you'd like to admit. Instead of blatantly trusting him, you decided you'd put him through a small test just to be sure he'd keep his word. You shifted yourself so that you could face him better, then placed a hand on his jaw and turned his head so that his surprised eyes met your devious ones. You filled your head with thoughts and images of what you were about to do. The first good sign was that he didn't immediately move to stop you, so he was at least not reading your thoughts at that moment (or he just didn't care what he saw, but you highly doubted that). Slowly, you moved your face closer to his. He looked shocked, but still did not do what you kept expecting him to, which was pushing you away or telling you to knock it off. 

With a "now or never" command popping into your brain, you stopped inches from Castiel's face, placed your hands onto his chest, and pushed him backwards with almost all of your force. You straddled yourself over his waist so he couldn't get up and leaned forward with zero hesitance, throwing your lips onto his. He was still too shocked to do anything, and you already lay on top of him for a second or two longer than you had originally intended. You placed your arms at his sides and moved to push your lips (and frankly, the rest of your body) off of his, but the strong momentum of his arms brought you back down. Now his mouth was moving against yours and his arms were wrapped snugly around your body. 

It was your turn to be surprised now, but you recovered much more quickly than Castiel and almost ruined the kiss by smiling. You recomposed yourself and pushed your arms under his shoulders and up to the sides of his head. It was almost hard to keep up with the pressing passion on his lips and the love-starved movements of his body, but you were _not_ complaining. One moment you were on top of him and the next you found yourself underneath him, gasping for air between kisses. Whether this was because he'd used his "angel powers" to move you or because you were too deeply involved to notice your own movements, you had no idea. It didn't matter, though, because the way he was moving his hips was practically dry humping you and it was driving you insane. He kissed you once more and moved his lips to your neck, spreading the kisses all the way from your ear lobe to your collarbone. He continued to press his weight into you using his hips and moved his lips back to yours for a long, slow kiss. As soon as he moved his mouth to breathe you let out a very loud, involuntary moan of pleasure. This turned him on more, of course, but your thoughts moved to the other residents of the household who would definitely have heard that if they were awake.

Just as you feared, you listened for and heard footsteps moving quickly from the main room to the hallway. You alerted Castiel of your approaching guest and you both sat up and tried to disentangle yourselves from each other as quickly as possible. A single knock came from outside and the door nearly swung open. There stood the sasquatch that was Sam, looking over at you and Cas with the most shocked face you'd ever seen on anyone before. You straightened your clothes and glanced at Castiel, who looked much more calm than you or Sam but still slightly awestruck. It was nearly impossible for you to determine whether it was you or Sam whose face more accurately resembled a tomato at the moment.

"Er, I thought," Sam's eyes kept avoiding yours, and he looked to be sweating, "I thought you might be in, er, danger..."

Castiel was staring at you, as if unsure what was happening. You bit your lip and avoided both their gazes, grinning unintentionally, "I'm, uh...I'm alright."

"Right, um, I'll leave you guys alone then." He closed the door softly and left at a brisk pace. You immediately checked your hair and your breathing patterns, realizing both were terribly out of place.

Cas sounded very confused, "What...just happened?"

"Unfortunately," you sighed and glanced at him warily, trying desperately to fix your sex hair, "we were caught before anything fun could happen."

He just sat there for a few seconds, then stood up, "As I said, I was busy. I should leave."

You felt the remnants of the intense blush leaving your face. You stood up quickly before he could whisk himself away and placed a hand on either side of his face. When you were sure this caught his attention, you smiled, "Thank you."

"For what?" he furrowed his brow.

"For not reading my thoughts." You still smiled, "And for...everything else."

His face flickered a few emotions that you didn't quite catch, but landed on relaxed. You threw your arms around him and he hesitantly hugged you in return. It was amusing how different he acted when he was thinking about everything he was doing as he was presently.

You took a deep breath to take in and remember his scent, then savored him for moment, "You can leave now."

There was one last squeeze as he hugged you tighter to him just before he left. Despite his sudden absence and the interrupting scene of a few minutes before, you felt yourself smiling.

 

 

"(y/n), you ready?" Dean called at you from outside.

"Just saying goodbye!" You called back. You hugged Bobby and thanked him for allowing you to stay so long, and said you'd make sure that Castiel gave him something in return for his kindness. Bobby thanked you in return and told you to get out there and not die on your first hunt. You waved a final goodbye, then stepped outside and hopped into the back of the Impala.

"About damn time." Dean joked, then looked at you using the rear-view mirror, "Don't worry, we'll see Mr. Decepticon again soon."

"Bobby has got to be an autobot." Sam corrected.

"Hey, Sammy?" Dean asked innocently.

Sam raised a brow, "Yeah, Dean?"

He grinned, "Shut up."


	4. A Day With The Boys

"If we hadn't stopped for food we could have been here on time, you know." You said to Dean from across the room. You struggled with the rope around your wrists and ankles, which chafed a lot more than you pictured it would.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Hey, it's not my fault you walked in without checking your corners. Besides, I could've died of starvation."

"Guys, we have more important issues than lunch. Those burritos were gross anyway." Sam stated.

With a quick sweep of the eyes, you made sure that the skinwalker was not approaching either door, then leaned forward and whispered as if it made a difference, "Don't you have knives? One of you needs to cut us free so we can kill that thing when it's least expecting it."

Sam frowned, "After it knocked you out it took everything on us that even resembled silver."

You made a face, "You guys just let it take all our supplies without getting a decent shot in there? Or even a stab? What happened?"

Dean grunted unhappily, "You haven't seen it's other form yet. The inhuman version is...feisty."

"Feisty, am I?" The skinwalker sauntered into the room, grinning at each of it's victims. It looked like a human woman but you knew better than to refer to the thing as a 'her'. It rested it's eyes on Dean and winked, "You're the cutest. I'll save you for last." It grinned and pulled Sam's machete from the belt it was wearing, admiring the blade with a look of amusement, "Now as much as I'd love to turn the three of you, somehow I don't believe you'd appreciate the gesture."

"You'll hope you have something to appreciate when I shoot you full of silver." Dean interjected.

"This is more poetic anyway." It continued, completely ignoring his threat, "Killing you with your own weapons. Kind of like stabbing an elephant with its own tusk."

You and Dean shared a "where the Hell did that come from" look and Sam took a deep breath, "Look, say this works out your way. You kill us and then what? Back to slaughtering every innocent hiker that walks past here? Other hunters are going to come and you know it."

"And what am I supposed to do?" It hissed, holding the machete to Sam's throat with visible pressure, "Sit around and wait to die? You hunters just don't get it. You get to choose everything you do with your lives, but us? We're forced to..." It continued lecturing Sam, but you tuned out the moment Dean started signaling to you from behind it's back. He nodded his head furiously toward the shelf behind you, which when you looked up, you realized it had a nice silver bullet-filled looking pistol sitting on top. You nodded that you understood. More urgent now than before, you scooted your chair backwards as silently as possible and hoped the skinwalker wouldn't hear you over all its incessant yowling. Sam was beginning to look desperate.

With a satisfying halt, you hit the umbrella stand that you'd forgotten to be there. Luckily the creature had made a nice "home" for itself in the cabin of one of it's victims and had left you where it'd found you to kill you. The man who used to live in the cabin was a hunter (the "normal" kind, not the monster kind) and had two rifles sitting around with the umbrellas. You assumed they weren't loaded, otherwise you would've grabbed one, and used the front sight to begin working at the layers of rope on your wrists.

By the time it was done yelling at Sam, it was absolutely fuming. Apparently he'd tried to calm it down further, and that'd just pissed it off so much that it threatened to make his death slow and painful. Before it could chop off his hand as it intended, Dean had interrupted with some snide remark about the creature that you didn't quite catch. Now that your rope was down to only a few wrap arounds, you prepared mentally for what you were going to do. Your mental preparation screwed you over, however, because the skinwalker finally caught on to what you were doing.

"You naughty, naughty human." It growled. It was looking at you with such seething rage you half expected it's head to pop off. Instead, it's face began to change into something very non-human-like.  _You have seconds before it transforms. Hurry up!_ , your inner voice yelled.

Whether it was instinct or adrenaline that got you through the events to follow, you had no idea. The moment it's body began to change from human to animal, you'd finally gotten your hands free, stood up, knocked out the shelf above you, Grabbed Dean's gun, and shot it twice in the face as it leaped at your upper half. It fell to the ground just in front of your feet as a 300+ lb. cougar. 

You widened your eyes and shot menacing looks at the brothers, "You couldn't have told me it was a frigging  _cougar?_ "

"What'd you think it was, a bunny?" Dean relaxed his shoulders, "Now untie us, will ya?"

You took a last look at the huge cat and grabbed the machete that clattered to the floor along with its human clothes. You cut the ties on your ankles, then all the ones Sam and Dean had. Dean took his gun from you gratefully. The three of you rounded up the rest of the weapons it'd left in the kitchen and the rest from on the shelf which it'd planned to kill you with. You dredged out to the Impala, feeling like you'd just lost every ounce of energy you'd be needing for the next week.

"(y/n), you know, that wasn't too shabby for a first hunt," Sam told you as Dean started the engine.

"It was a lot harder than I thought it would be." You said bitterly, rubbing the marks on your wrists left by the rope, "Guess you guys were lucky I was there though, eh?"

Dean smirked, "I suppose so...and sorry about all that smack talk back there. I just thought I was going to have to save one more ass than usual."

You smiled and waved it off, "It's fine. I know you have good intentions."

"How d'you know that?" Sam turned to look at you as he asked with a brow raised.

"Cas told me that Dean always has good intentions."

"Oh." Sam looked away quickly and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The way he'd acted for the past day and a half, whenever you mentioned Castiel, was really starting to annoy you. Dean was starting to get suspicious too, which only added to your pile of "shit to deal with later." That pile had been growing  _a lot_ since you'd met an angel.

The way back to the motel took a while since the skinwalker had made it's base in the mountains instead of in town. You all spent it talking about what classified as good music, Dean's terrible meal choices, how shady your motel was at night, and listening to weird radio stations, among other things. The day hadn't been a total loss you'd decided, when you assessed everything on the way into town. According to the brothers you'd done extremely well for a first hunt, not to mention how easily you spotted that the thing killing the vics was a skinwalker.

"We should go out and celebrate!" Dean said excitedly to you and Sam as you passed a gross-looking bar, "It's (y/n)'s first hunt! C'mon, you guys know we gotta."

You and Sam seemed to have the same party-pooper reaction Dean didn't like. Despite that, he pressed on, "Only two drinks. Okay, one. Okay, we can just go into the bar and make fun of drunk people." He was getting whiny now, " _Please?_ "

You knew Sam wouldn't answer for you, so you sighed and gave in, "Fine. But if I wake up tomorrow with a hangover I'm shooting silver bullets into  _your_ face, Dean."

"Whoo! What about you, Sammy? When's the last time we celebrated anything?"

Sam sighed, "You're going to take me to the bar no matter what I say, right?"

"Damn right I am!" Dean smiled giddily, "Glad I have you guys around to keep me social."

Instead of turning around for the bar on the outskirts of town, Dean found one relatively close to the motel and practically shoved you and Sam inside. He led the three of you to a corner table and tried to get away with ordering shots for everyone, but you went for gin and coke while Sam had a beer.

"You guys are really bringing me down." Dean sent you each an accusing stare after downing his third shot, "I hope you're a happy drunk." He nodded toward you.

Instead of answering him you finished off your drink and downgraded to beer. By the time Dean's words started to slur together (and probably yours too after a beer or two more, but you couldn't tell) Sam was making fun of both of you. He finished his beer and stopped ordering after that.

"Dean was right, you're a party pooper." You started to say to him after a while, to which he always responded, "I'd rather drive than walk home." And your genius rebuttal? "Whatever."

 

 

It was Sam who, unsurprisingly, decided it was time to get back to the motel at around 2AM. By that point Dean was trying so hard to get the waitress' phone number that it was the very manly manager who ended up bringing them their check. You were so woozy that you kept telling Sam you were going to pass out. Sam used one of Dean's credit cards to pay for everything, then led you out to the Impala with Dean in tow. He helped you into the passenger seat and his older brother into the back. Dean's head hit the door with a thud and he audibly snored.

Still completely drunk, you stared at Sam as he drove. Not only were you a happy drunk, you were an honest one, "You should stop flinching every time I say Castiel's name. It's super annoying."

He glanced at you, looking slightly pained, "Maybe we should talk when you're sober."

You smiled, "But I won't be happy when I'm sober! I'll be all grumpy."

He huffed a laugh, "Duly noted, but we're almost at the motel anyway."

Sure enough, the bright neon motel sign caused you to squint and whine. Sam pulled into the parking lot and the moment the engine went off, Dean shot up, yelled something about an oil change, hit his head on the roof of the car, and cursed multiple times. It shocked you so much that you reached for the knife at your belt and shocked Sam so much that he hit the horn with his arm on the way out. You relaxed and left the knife on your belt, then followed the brothers back to the room.

"Tomorrow morning is gonna suck for you guys." Sam chuckled as he put everything from the hunt down on the floor.

You flopped down on the closest bed and fell asleep within minutes, not really caring about the consequences of your present actions.


	5. A Not-So-Bad Day

You were beginning to hate yourself for not caring about the consequences of your past actions.

Your mouth was dry, your head was pounding, and you'd puked not one, not two, but three times already that morning. Dean wasn't exactly fit as a fiddle but he was in much better condition than you.

"I blame you for this." You growled at the older Winchester brother and swallowed a few Aspirin.

He downed a beer and sent you a knowing look, "Hey, you keep drinking and there's no hangover to deal with."

"Spoken like a true alcoholic."

"She's not wrong." Sam agreed, packing the rest of his things.

Dean made a sullen reference about some fairy tale character, which both you and Sam ignored. After everything was packed away, Dean went to the front desk to pay and you and Sam put everyone's stuff in the Impala. When it was all in the trunk, you both hopped in the car and waited for Dean. 

Sam broke the silence that had ensued by turning around in the passenger seat to look at you, then asking a question you'd already answered, "You sure you want to come on this next hunt? We don't even know what the thing is yet."

"I told you, Sam." you smirked, "I've got nothing better to do. Just don't let Dean get me drunk this time."

"Right, but..." he paused, "Don't you want to wait for Cas or something?"

You sighed, "Are you afraid he won't be able to find me?"

"No, it's not that, it's just..." he looked unsure of what to say.

"You can bring up the other night."

"What happened the other night?" Dean asked as he opened the door and interrupted abruptly. By the time he started the car you and Sam still had not recovered enough from how much he'd startled you to answer his question, which led to him getting more suspicious than necessary.

"The other night as in at Bobby's?" he interrogated as he drove, glancing at you in the mirror, "Please tell me you guys didn't get all kinky in the guest room at Bobby's."

"We didn't." Sam assured him, avoiding both of your gazes.

When he didn't continue, Dean squinted at you and repeated, "What happened the other night?"

"Nothing, nothing." You told him, trying to wave away the issue, "Let's turn on the radio."

"Quit trying to change the subject." He shot a threatening look at Sam, who was staying as silent as possible, "So, let me just get this straight. No one was getting kinky in the guest room at Bobby's."

You felt your face heat up, "Well, not no one--"

Dean's eyes widened to a look of horror, "Oh God, please tell me it was not Bobby."

"Bobby is in his sixties and paralyzed from the waist down." You reminded him. He said a quick, "Oh, yeah" and put his attention on Sam who even you knew was acting too suspiciously quiet, "Sammy, so help me God I will turn this car around."

Sam raised his hands defensively, "This isn't your business. It isn't even mine."

Dean frowned and thought out loud for a moment, "Who would show up out of nowhere in the middle of the night and not care about how loud they were and still feel free to get kinky with--" He stopped mid sentence and grinned madly, looking from you to Sam with a devious spark in his eye, "Is it Cas?"

No one answered.

"No way." He had a huge smile, "No freakin' way.  _You're screwing Cas?"_

You blushed harshly and looked everywhere but his smug little face, "Let's listen to the radio now."

He turned the radio on, still smiling like crazy, and winked when he caught your eye, "Tell Cas he did good."

The rest of the ride was alright, but still shadowed by Sam's guilt, your embarrassment, and Dean's delight. For some reason he was enthralled with the idea of "Cas having a girlfriend" and wanted to make sure you knew it. By the time you reached the town that the hunt was in, you'd told Dean to shut up in many different, very colorful ways. His reaction was always to smile and the entire time Sam was sending you the silent "sorry about my brother" look. Dean's comments had finally died out when you reached the new motel. Sam was voicing his sorrow to you now and Dean was ignoring it in full. Thankfully, by the time you all had the new room put together the subject was forgotten.

"We need to go check out some of the suspects while there's still daylight." Sam told you as you took more Aspirin to nurse the last of your hangover, "And you'll have to stay here, sorry."

"I mean, we'd offer for you to come with us but," Dean pulled a wallet from his pocket and flipped it open to reveal an FBI badge with a grin, "you aren't FBI."

You rolled your eyes, "Right, and you are. I'll be fine, you guys go get us a lead."

They said goodbyes and left with the Impala to interview the only suspects you had so far, which were next to no one. You were glad you hadn't had to go with them, however, because your head still hurt and human interaction was probably the last thing you needed to make it feel better. You decided you'd make use of your time and do something, so you began reading one of the books you'd borrowed from Bobby. It was mainly about myths surrounding the Norse Gods, but you were more interested in the way it portrayed soldiers of Odin versus soldiers of God.

"Why is Gabriel so involved with these Gods?"

You jumped up out of the chair and dropped the book, so startled that you had to place a hand over your heart to make sure it was still beating. Castiel looked surprised at the sudden outburst. You placed a hand on the chair to steady yourself and closed your eyes in relief.

When you recovered, you moved over to him and hugged him tightly, "Warn me next time before I accidentally stab you, okay?"

He hugged you back, "Sorry. I didn't realize that would frighten you."

"I know. I..." You pulled away just far enough to look at his face and smiled, "I missed you."

"...Likewise." He hesitantly moved a stray strand of hair from your face. Tired of the foreplay, you closed your eyes and kissed him on the lips. He returned the kiss immediately, which in your mind made up for the earlier behavior of him scaring the crap out of you.

When he broke the kiss you smiled, "At least this day wasn't all bad."

He furrowed his brow, "When does one consider a day to be 'bad?'"

"When Dean Winchester gets you hungover and then berates you with questions."

"Ah."

You took a step back and looked him up and down as if saving a mental picture, then asked, "How long can you be here?"

He sighed, "Not long."

"Not even a night?" You inquired innocently.

He looked more confused than understanding, "No."

You exhaled slowly and looked up at him with a little more sadness than you'd intended to allow your face to show, "Castiel, I want to spend more time with you."

"Once again, likewise." He picked up the book off the floor that you'd forgotten there and placed it on the table next to the chair, "But I'm busy."

"Finding God, right?"

"Mostly, yes."

You shrugged, "Then I want to help. Take me with you. I can help with the whole necklace thing."

"Believe me, I wish you could." He frowned, "But since I'm rebelling from Heaven I don't have as much...power as I used to. If I take a human with me wherever I go, I'll use it all and I'll never be able to find God."

You flopped down on the chair again and sighed, "Why does everything have to be so complicated?"

"I'm not supposed to answer that, correct?"

"Correct."

He stood there for a few minutes while you sulked. Eventually you looked at the clock and realized it'd been hours since they'd left, so the Winchesters would no doubt be back any minute. You offered for Cas to sit in the chair opposite you, which he did, and told him to prepare for Dean's onslaught of commentary. Castiel couldn't understand why, and you tried to explain that Sam ruining your guys' moment and the sheer fact that you were his "girlfriend" was enough to get Dean excited.

"Dean doesn't make much sense sometimes." He concluded, trying to get comfortable in the ugly motel chair.

You nodded and smiled at how cute he looked when he sank into the back of it, "Trust me, I know."

"What's funny?" He asked genuinely, noting the smile on your face.

"Nothing you're just...adorable."

He shook his head, "I still don't understand how or why that term applies to me."

You went to give a remark about how his ignorance of the word made it even cuter, but just then the front door to the motel room opened. The brothers walked in with bags of food, arguing about something along the lines of Madonna and her fashion sense. You knew the exact moment Dean noticed Castiel, because his eyes lit up and he grinned.

He looked from you to Cas and said something so ironic you wanted to punch him in the throat, "Well aren't you two just adorable?"


	6. I Believe the Children Can Destroy Our Future (pt. 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on this episode:  
> http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1506849/?ref_=ttpl_pl_tt  
> {Certain future chapters also to be based on certain episodes. Consider this an official disclaimer.}

"How many times have I said I hate djinn? The bastards."

Sam sighed, "Since we left? Four."

"Five." You corrected solemnly.

Once Cas had left, you, Dean, and Sam had had to spend an entire day questioning suspects and finding the djinn's lair, then another full day to trap and kill it. Not only had Dean been captured by a djinn (for the second time, which Sam informed you after the hunt) but you were nearly poisoned trying to save him. Had it not been for Sam's stealth, the thing would have no doubt drained and killed both you and Dean.

After having to be saved by others for two hunts in a row, Dean wasn't too happy. He kept going on about how you were getting "the wrong first impression" and that he would, and you quote, "Save you ass so well that you'll have to open a savings account so that you won't lose it." Needless to say, he was determined to prove himself on a big hunt.

Which was why the three of you were now on your way Alliance, Nebraska. You and Sam had allowed him to pick the craziest news article he could find and figure out a way to make himself a hero from it. In the place you were headed, a woman was seemingly mauled by something that tore up the side of her skull. Your thoughts brought you to theories of demons or some type of mind control, but honestly you had little to no idea. If the brothers had any theories, they were keeping them to themselves.

Only a few hours after departing from the town of your last hunt, Dean spoke suddenly, "We're here."

You woke from your half-asleep state and saw a not-so-welcoming looking motel. No one complained, of course, and Sam went to the front desk to pay while you and Dean carried everything from the car to the room.

You threw bags on beds and questioned Dean as you went through a few of them, "I can't go with you for the undercover work yet, can I?"

"Afraid not, Halo."

"Halo?" You momentarily shot him a judging look.

He took a deep breath and motioned above his head with a circling motion, as if explaining something to a child, "You know, the things angels are supposed to wear? They're like light and pure and floaty and...stuff."

"I know what a halo is." You rolled your eyes, "But why am I one?"

"Because you're always floating around a freaking angel." He put the last of the weapons on the table, "Duh."

You didn't have enough energy to rebuttal, so you just ignored him and sat down on the dirty couch, then picked up the remote and flipped through the small amount of offered channels. When Sam walked in, he and Dean changed into their suits and searched through the luggage for FBI badges and weapons. You handed Sam one of the pistols and told them to have fun without you. He said a thanks and they were just about to leave when Dean turned back to you.

"Here, call Bobby and ask him to get you a badge. We'll stop by there when we get the chance."

He tossed you his cell phone and waved, then shut the door behind him. You sent him a mental thanks and were already dialing as the Impala drove off.

"Yeah?"

"Bobby." You grinned. You hadn't heard from him since you left and it was good to hear his voice, "It's me."

"(y/n)? Nothing's wrong, is it? Did that boy tell you to use his phone to call me if he died?" he sounded more annoyed than worried, as he often did.

"No, nothing like that. Everything's fine." You assured him, flipping past a showing of some game show and landing on a terrible cop drama, "I just wanted to know if you could get me an FBI badge. And maybe a CDC one too, if it's not too much to ask."

He didn't hesitate with his answer, "No problem, kiddo. Can't guarantee I'll have them ready anytime soon, though."

You once again told him that all was good and talked for a little while longer about how hunting was going for you. In spite of almost getting killed by both creatures you'd hunted, you ultimately decided it was more fun and exciting than you'd expected it to be.

Finally Bobby said he had another phone ringing and had to answer for another hunter. You understood and said goodbye, then went back to silently making fun of the shitty cop drama that was so stereotypical you wanted to pull your hair out. By the end of the episode, however, you found yourself sticking around for the next one and the one after that. Unfortunately you'd unintentionally found yourself a slight guilty pleasure.

"Halo, we're back! We brought ham!" Dean called as him and Sam carried a large ham through the front door.

"Halo?" Sam raised a brow.

"Ham?" You asked, confused.

You shut off the TV and went over to the table where they set down the pile of meat. Dean answered neither of you, but used gloved hands and pulled a joybuzzer from his pocket very gingerly. He handed each of you a pair of goggles after placing his own on his head.

With a sudden understanding, you shot them each reproachful glances, "You know those things don't really work, right?"

Dean scoffed at you and looked at Sam, "You ready?"

"Hit it Mr. Wizard."

You ignored them as well as you could without seeming too curious, then followed in suit when they placed the goggles over their eyes. With a slow gesture, Dean moved the toy toward the ham. As soon as they touched, the ham was zapped for a few seconds and when Dean pulled his hand away, it was cooked. You stared in amazement and took the goggles off, "How...?" They seemed to have as little an idea as you. Sam told you about the woman and the itching powder and then the electrocution with the joybuzzer. When he suggested they may be cursed, you and Dean agreed it was the best lead you had.

Dean stuck his knife into the thing and pulled off a few pieces, stuffing them into his face, "Is there any link between the joybuzzer and the itching powder?"

Sam shrugged, "One was made in China and the other in Mexico, but they were both bought from the same store."

As the older of the two continued to eat, you turned to Sam, "Alright, let's go."

Neither of them argued about you tagging along, which made you happier than you'd like to admit, and you left the ham to sit in the motel. You all hopped in the Impala and headed to the shop that supposedly sold all the cursed toys, which was named "The Conjurarium."

When you arrived, Dean was immediately distracted by the whoopee cushions. Sam looked incredibly annoyed, but you couldn't help but smile in return to Dean's excited face.

A man stepped out from behind a curtain in the back of the store, a bored look shadowing his face, "Welcome to the Conjurarium: Sanctum of magic and mystery."

Sam asked before you could, "You the owner?"

"Yep." He stepped up to the counter and swiftly surveyed each of you.

You spied around the store for a moment as Dean spoke, "You sold any joybuzzers or itching powder lately?"

He said yes, still looking terribly unenthusiastic, and asked if any of you were going to buy anything. To your dismay, Dean handed him money for the whoopee cushion.

"So you get many customers?" Sam segwayed.

He nodded, "Kids come in. They don't buy much, but they're more'n happy to break stuff."

"Well you're just a ray of sunshine." You commented.

Dean huffed a laugh, "Oh, and your boyfriend is?"

The owner sent you a bitter look and continued, "These days, all they care about are iphones and those kissing vampire movies. It all just makes me--"

"Angry?" Dean concluded. You found yourself wondering whether this guy could really be the witch that cursed all the toys.

"Yeah." He nodded, pushing you more toward Dean's train of thought, "Yeah, I am angry. This shop has been my life for twenty years and now it's wasting away to nothing."

"Which is why you hate them." You said more than asked.

"I suppose."

The moment Dean said the word "revenge," you knew you'd either found or lost the witch. When he pulled down a rubber chicken and shocked it like the ham, however, the suspected witch cowered in fear with wide eyes.

"Something tells me this guy's not a powerful witch." Sam muttered.

"You think?" You glanced at the melted chicken.

Dean apologized and you left as quickly as possible. Once you were all in the Impala, you groaned, "What now?"

Sam looked exasperated, "Dunno. Guess we should just call it a night. We'll go over everything again tomorrow morning."

Neither you nor Dean said otherwise, so that's exactly what you did. You got back to the motel and claimed one of the beds. Sam went for the couch and Dean flopped down on the other bed with a knife under his pillow and no blankets to cover himself, as usual.

You found yourself drifting to sleep soon after that. You dreamed about demons.

 

 

The next morning was much more eventful than you'd thought it would be. Instead of having to research everything again, the local online news said that another man had been attacked in a strange way. You'd been able to go with them this time since you and Sam were posing as college students working on a paper. If you had actually been writing a paper, however, you doubt you could've used the eyewitness account of a man who thought he'd had all his teeth stolen by the tooth fairy.

After that, Dean had figured that everything that was happening was the work of the beliefs of children. You and his brother agreed. You and Sam argued over the signs of it being a god vs a trickster, which Dean didn't seem to care much about as long as he got to "stab it's face." 

Sam went out for a bit more investigation as you and Dean stayed in the motel. You went back through TV stations, searching for your stupid cop drama, and Dean ate away at the ham. You didn't question him and he didn't question you, but you couldn't help but wonder how he planned on finishing the entire roast.

Finally, Sam came back with an amount of substantial information. He pulled out a map and showed you and Dean how each of the incidents had happened within a two mile radius of a center point.

"So what's the A-bomb in the center?" Dean asked, mouth full of ham.

"Four miles of farmland--"

"And a house?" You guessed.

Sam nodded. You all ditched the room and got into the Impala to go to the house (or the "witch house" as you'd been referring to it). It took longer to drive there than you thought it might, but it was nothing compared to the hours of driving from state to state for each hunt.

"Nuh-uh, you're waiting in the car." Dean stopped you from opening your door.

You glared from behind the half open window, "Why?"

He flashed you an FBI badge and a grin. You frowned and muttered to yourself, wondering why you'd been so keen to come along in the first place. He and Sam walked up to the porch and you watched from the car. After a moment the door opened and whoever was standing behind it was too short for you to see from across the road. The brothers talked to whoever it was for a minute or so, then Dean turned around and motioned for you to follow them into the house. Gratefully, you left the Impala and jogged up to the house.

"Is that a kid?" You whispered to Sam as you closed the front door behind you, seeing the child disappear around the corner.

"Yup. Parents are working."

You frowned skeptically and followed them into the kitchen. The kid turned off the oven and took off the pot that had been cooking.

"What's that?" Sam asked.

"It's called soup. You cook it up and you eat it." The kid sassed.

You chuckled and looked to Sam. He smiled and shook the kid's hand, "I'm Robert."

"Jesse." he smiled back.

Dean pulled a picture off the fridge, which you recognized as a familiar depiction of the tooth fairy. Jesse acknowledged that he drew it and Dean sent you a look. You smiled at Jesse, "It's a great drawing."

"Who're you?" he questioned.

You paused, unsure of how to answer. Dean quickly put his arm around your shoulders, "She's my girlfriend. Don't worry, she's a cop too."

You sniffed to hide your look of disinterest and sat down at the table to get out from under his arm, "Yeah, sorry about the outfit. Today's my day off."

Sam noticed your inability to be in such close proximity to Dean and had to cough to cover his laugh. The kid nodded at you, seemingly convinced, and then looked back at the drawing, "My dad told me about the tooth fairy. Didn't yours?"

You glanced at them at the mention of their father, whom Bobby had told you a bit about. Dean laughed bitterly, "My dad told me different stories."

"Well the tooth fairy isn't a story."

Sam and Dean shared a curious look. Dean asked the next question before you could, "What do you know about itching powder, Jesse?"

The kid looked indifferent, "That stuff'll make you scratch your brains out."

"Pop rocks and coke?" You inquired.

"Mix 'em and you'll end up in the hospital." He stated surely.

When Dean pulled out the joybuzzer, the kid looked terrified. He warned him about electrocution. Dean told him that it was harmless, and when the kid look convinced he grinned.

"I mean all it does is shock your hand. See?" 

You widened your eyes as Dean pressed the toy to Sam's chest. Sam looked so shocked and relieved when it did nothing that you couldn't help but grin.

Jesse smiled in understanding. There was a moment of silence in which you suppressed laughter and Sam seethed with angst.

Finally Dean hit you on the back and smiled, "Well, time to go, sweetheart."

"Sure, sweetheart." You made sure to step/stomp on his foot on your way out.

As you walked toward the Impala, Sam and Dean argued over if what Dean had done was a correct way to test his theory. Apparently a "hunch" wasn't enough to risk his brother's life. They asked for your opinion, but you purposefully stayed out of it and continued to watch them argue for a while in the car. 

When they were finally done, you spoke, "Okay, so we know Jesse's doing all this. How?"

Dean shrugged and glanced at you in the mirror as he drove, as he often did, "No idea. The kid doesn't even know he's doing it."

You pondered over it for a while and, when you got back to the motel, helped Dean search for information on it. It didn't really surprise either of your when you found out nothing, but when Sam got back from the police station you were more alert for news.

"So, I just found out Jesse's adopted. His mother lives in Elk Creek on the other side of the state." He reported.

"Why'd she give him up?" you asked.

He shrugged, "Dunno."

"Well, let's go check her out." Dean said, discarding his father's journal.

 

 

Unfortunately, you'd been fully prepared to go off on a whole rant about how you were "clearly with the FBI" even though you didn't have a badge, but the woman in Elk Creek had considered you a demon before you had the chance to go off on a flurry of excuses. She had promptly thrown salt at all three of you and was amazed at the idea of someone other than a demon knowing about her son. After everyone calmed down, she invited all of you into the front room and offered you tea before she told the whole story.

"I was possessed." She hesitantly began after everyone had gotten comfortable, "A demon took control of my body and hurt people."

She went on about how the demon had been inside her head for nine months, and how she'd been a virgin before any of it had happened. She also explained the pain of the birth and the way the demon laughed at her pain. You found yourself feeling more sorrow than you'd intended to, even knowing her story couldn't be a good one. She paused when she spoke about how she thought about killing her child, but knowing she could never do so. That was apparently the reason for the adoption.

"I'm sorry." You told the woman truthfully, "About everything."

Tears welled in her eyes and she took a moment to speak, "It's not your fault."

"It's not yours either." Sam said truthfully.

After that you all left. You were beginning to hate demons before you'd even met one. On the ride back to Alliance, Dean broke the deafening silence.

"Hey, (y/n). Mind asking Cas to meet us back at the motel?"

You raised a brow, "You can't?"

He shot you a look, "We both know he's gonna be there for you, not us."

You shrugged, "I'm not sure about that, but I'll try."

You used your thoughts to pray to your angel. You thought about the motel and the room number and the approximate time you'd be getting back, which was pretty late. Consequently because of the lateness of the hour you actually fell asleep in the car, and your last thoughts were about an angel in a trenchcoat.

You dreamed about demons.


	7. I Believe the Children Can Destroy Our Future (pt. 2)

"(y/n). (y/n) wake up, we're here."

You jumped awake at the sound of Sam's voice. He stepped out of the way so you could follow them back into the motel. Your thoughts flooded the situation back into your mind when Castiel stood at the other end of the room.

Dean shut the door and Sam spoke to Cas with a glance at you, "I take it you got our message."

You fell down onto the couch, still fairly tired. Cas watched you as he talked, "It's lucky you found the boy."

"Oh yeah, real lucky." Dean muttered, pulling off his tie, "What do we do with him?"

"Kill him."

Taken aback, you frowned and rubbed your eyes, "What?"

Dean paused, "Cas--"

"This child is half demon and half human, but it's far more powerful than either." Instead of trying to avoid your gaze he made sure to catch it, as if to ensue the importance of the subject matter, "Other cultures call this hybrid cambien or katako...you know him as the antichrist."

He sat down on the couch next to you and caught each of your gazes unwaveringly.

Sam shook his head, "I don't get it. Jesse is the Devil's son?"

Cas looked like he wanted to roll his eyes, "No of course not. Your Bible gets more wrong than it does right. The antichrist is not Lucifer's child, it's just a demonspawn." He glanced at you as if for support that you could not provide, "...but it is one of Lucifer's greatest weapons in the war against Heaven."

Dean scoffed, "Well if Jesse's a demonic howitzer then what the Hell's he doing in Nebraska?"

"The demons lost him; they can't find him. But they're looking."

Dean raised a skeptical brow, "And they lost him because...?"

"Because of the child's power. It hides him from both angels and demons."

"So you wouldn't have been able to find him without us?" you inquired, willing yourself to stay awake.

Cas turned his attention to you, "Well it would have been extremely difficult, but yes, you helped."

"So he's got like a...forcefield around him." Dean shrugged, "Well that's great. Problem solved."

He took a deep breath, "With Lucifer risen, this child grows strong. Soon he will do more than just make a few toys come to life...something that will draw the demons to him." Cas looked at each of you with a expression that willed you to understand, "The demons will find this child. Lucifer will twist this boy to his purpose and then with a word this  _child_ will destroy the host of Heaven."

You found yourself trying to cope with what he was implying. Your heart was saying,  _he's just a kid!_ , but your brain was countering with,  _a kid that'll kill your boyfriend just because he feels like it._

"Wait, wait..." Dean furrowed his brow, "Are you saying Jesse's gonna nuke the angels?"

Instead of answering directly, Cas leaned back against the couch and said, "We cannot allow that to happen."

Before you realized what you were doing, you stood from the sofa and sent Castiel an appalled look, "So you want us to kill the kid?"

He frowned, "(y/n)--"

"We're the good guys." Sam stopped him, "We don't just kill children."

Whereas he'd looked calm with your comment, Cas looked angry with Sam's. He stood from the couch and glared at him, "A year ago you would have done whatever it took to win this war."

"Things change." He spat back.

A little uncertain of what had been happening a year ago, you allowed them to stare at each other for a while longer. Dean ended up stepping in front of Cas and leaving Sam behind his back. You instinctually moved to Cas' side, but neither of them payed you any attention.

"Okay, look." Dean growled, "We're not going to kill him, alright? But we can't leave Jesse here either--we know that...So we take him to Bobby's. He'll know what to do."

"You'll kidnap him?"

Dean glanced at Sam and shrugged. Cas continued, "What's going on in this town is what happens when this kid is happy. You cannot imagine what it'll do when it's angry." If he'd been angry before, he was fuming now, "Besides, how will you hold him? With a thought he could be half way across the world."

Your brain jumped momentarily to a memory of a beautiful city with neon lights, but you ignored it and grabbed Castiel's hand in an effort to calm him down. He didn't look at you, but he interlaced his fingers with yours and seemed less aggravated for a quiet moment.

Dean furrowed his brow again, "So we--?"

"So we tell him the truth." Sam stated as if it were obvious, then approached Cas as he spoke, "You say Jesse's destined to go dark side, fine. But he hasn't yet. So if we lay it all out for him -- What he is, the apocalypse, everything -- He might make the right choice."

When he let go of your hand you got worried, "Wait, Cas--"

He was fuming again, glaring at Sam now, "You didn't." A moment of uncomfortable silence fell, "And I can't take that chance."

Just before he did it, you knew it was coming. The angel disappeared and you cursed.

 

 

Apparently it was much faster getting to your destination when you were going double the legal limit. Nearly the entire ride over you muttered angrily at the brothers about how if they'd let you speak you might've been able to convince Cas to not be so drastic.

"It doesn't matter now, does it?" One of them replied.

You sighed, "You know he's doing this to protect his family, right?"

They ignored you after that, so you stopped making excuses for him.

When Dean pulled up to the house, you rushed inside after them only to find Jesse standing alone in the center of the main room. He looked scared and you followed his gaze to the floor. Among plenty shattered glass stood a three inch tall action figure of a knife-wielding Castiel. The kid calmed down only after you picked it/him up with a horrified expression.

"Was he your friend?"

It was  _not_ helping that he referred to him in the past tense. You were willing to believe he was still alive, but you had no way of knowing for sure.

"Him?" Dean glanced at you. You took a deep breath and set the figure on the mantle. He shook his head, "No."

"I did that." Jesse stated more than asked, "But how did I do that?"

You sat down and listened as Dean told him he was a superhero. It was genius, really, as a way of explaining such a situation to a child. Your mind kept wandering back to the miniature angel on the mantle. Dean went on to say that each of you worked for a government agency and that you were ready to take Jesse away and train him to control his super powers.  _At least it's going better than I imagined it would,_ you thought in spite of things.

But of course, you spoke too soon as usual. Out of nowhere, Dean was lifted off his feet and thrown against the wall by seemingly nothing.

A woman, who you recognized as the birth mother of Jesse, walked in with a smile and black eyes, "They're lying to you, Jesse."

You grabbed your pistol and stood, but just as you did you were flung to the opposite wall from Dean. Sam received the same painful push.

It glared at Sam, "Can't hurt you. Orders." It then looked to you and Dean and smiled in turn, "But you two, on the other hand..."

Just as you'd gotten semi-comfortable with the whole floating-off-the-ground-unable-to-move thing, you felt yourself being flung from one wall to the other. The pain was less bearable than you'd've liked it to be. 

"Stop!" Jesse commanded.

You let out a breath of relief and watched as the demon approached the frightened child, "Jesse...you're beautiful." It grinned and you wanted to spit in it's face, "You have your father's eyes."

He swallowed, "Who are you?"

"I'm your mother." It faked concern.

"No you're not."

"You're half human," it smiled, "and half one of us."

Dean mustered up enough strength to speak, which was just a distant, painful idea to you now, "She means demons, Jesse."

The demon lifted a fist and Dean was hit with a whole new wall of pain. It continued to ignore each of your sufferings, "Those people you call your parents?" It smiled again, "You're not theirs. Not really."

You struggled horribly, but somehow your limbs would not allow themselves to move. They seemed almost like they were detached from your body, and the pain was unlike anything you'd ever felt before. You couldn't even scream.

"My mom and dad love me."

"Do they? Is that why they leave you alone all day? Because they love you so much?" It leaned down to look Jesse in the eye, "Those people...those imposters...they lied to you. They told you that the tooth fairy was real, that your toys could hurt you, and a hundred other things that aren't true. They love you  _so much_...they made your whole life a lie. Everyone has lied to you. They're not FBI agents," it nodded towards you and the brothers, "and you're not a superhero."

"...Then what am I?"

It smiled again, "You're powerful. You can have anything you want. You can  _do_ anything you want."

Once again Dean spoke and you realized you had entire new reasons to admire his strengths, "Don't listen to her, Jesse."

It used it's fist to shut him up again and looked back at Jesse, "They treated you like a child. Nobody trusted you. Everybody's lied to you. Doesn't that make you angry?"

Instead of answering, Jesse caused the room to become chaotic. The lights flickered, the fire in the fireplace went on and off in waves, and the walls shook. You couldn't hold back your panicked expression any more than you could hold back the amount of pain you were feeling.

The demon looked happy and it sickened you, "See? It does make you angry. I'm telling you the truth, Jesse. Wouldn't it be better if there were no lies? Come with me and we can wash it all clean...Just imagine it. A world without lies."

You tried to say something, but anything you managed to get out couldn't be heard over the thrashing that was happening with everything around you. Sam managed to get a few words out, however, "Okay, she's right. We lied to you. But the truth is--"

It began using its power to choke Sam. He got a few more unintelligible words out before Jesse commanded it to stop. Suddenly the walls stopped moving and everything ceased to crash to the floor. Sam fell from the wall and caught himself, gasping for air.

"You're stronger than I thought." The demon said to Jesse.

Jesse ignored it and listened as Sam explained how and why Jesse was a part of the war. He told him the truth, as he'd originally intended. Your favorite part of watching the whole fiasco had to be when Jesse told the demon to "sit down and shut up," then promptly knock it into a chair and strip it of it's vocal chords.

Unsurprisingly, the kid was upset. It was a weight you weren't sure you'd be able to handle yourself, nonetheless a kid. After being upset he went back to angry, but instead of causing the room to become another disaster area he forced the demon from his mother's body. As soon as it shot out the fireplace, you and Dean hit the floor with dull sounds, gasping for air. You felt all the blood rush back through your body and checked to make sure you hadn't lost any of your limbs even though it'd felt like you had.

"Thanks." You breathed, leaning against the fireplace for support.

"How did you do that?" Dean asked after a particularly long exhale.

He shrugged, "I just did."

You told him that his mother would be alright and watched as Dean picked up the Cas figurine from the floor. He gingerly asked Jesse to switch him back.

"He tried to kill me." The kid informed him.

"He was...confused." You said slowly, choosing your words one at a time, "He'll be better now."

Jesse just stared at you and Dean placed Cas back onto the mantle, "It's been a long night. Maybe later."

You bit your lip, but didn't try to push it any further. 

"What now?" he asked.

Sam stepped in to tell him about how powerful he truly was, and how they needed to make sure he was safe and prepared for anything. He informed him that everything from this point forward was basically his choice, but that once he was in the war, he was in it for good. Still, Jesse did not seem overly keen on the idea of leaving everything behind for some fight he never wanted to be a part of. Part of you wanted to understand, but somehow you'd felt the complete opposite when hearing about the unsightly tale Jesse was being told.

After a few more minutes of talking to him and informing him of the danger he could potentially put his family in, the brothers allowed Jesse to head upstairs and say one last goodbye. None of you protested, but when he'd been up there for a long while you pointed it out to Sam and Dean.

The three of you rushed into Jesse's room to find it completely empty.

"He's gone." Came a voice from directly behind you.

You let out a small sigh of relief and briefly turned to hug Castiel.

"Where?" Sam asked.

"I don't know." He briefly hugged you back and you didn't allow him to let go of your hand, "He put everyone in town back to normal...the ones still alive. Then he vanished."

You leaned against Cas to reassure yourself that he was still there. Somehow, despite the antichrist being on the loose, you were worried about your boyfriend.

"Hey, look." Sam picked up a piece of paper from the bed. The top read "Mom and Dad" in a child's writing.

"What's it say?" you wondered aloud.

Sam scanned over it and frowned, looking melancholy, "That he had to leave to keep his parents safe...that he loves them and he's sorry."

"How do we find him?" Dean asked your angel.

"With the boy's powers? We can't. Not unless he wants to be found." 

For a good few seconds you all exchanged helpless looks. Sam placed the letter back on the bed and Dean gave a defeated shrug. You and Cas moved out of the doorway and allowed them to walk ahead so that they could get to the Impala an begin the drive home before Jesse's parent's awoke. 

"Wait." Cas stopped you from descending down the stairs after the brothers.

You turned quickly and looked up at him, afraid he was going to leave when you had your back turned, "What is it?"

He stared at you but said nothing. You went to wave a hand in front of his face to be sure he hadn't lost his train of thought, but you realized with a slight sick feeling that your environment had changed. You leaned into him to steady yourself and surveyed the room around you quickly.

It wasn't Bobby's -- you were sure of that -- but similar to his place it was lined with strange books and oddly placed boxes. Behind you, in the center of the room, was the only source of light: A bowl containing a strange glowing mixture, surrounded by candles. You'd never seen the symbol that was illuminated under the setup. It took another sweep of the eyes to realize this room was devoid of both windows and doors.

"Cas..." you squinted at him in the dim lighting, raising a questioning brow, "Why are we here?"

He paused, leaned down to kiss your forehead, then walked over to the other side of the bowl, "We need to talk."

He sat down on the floor, so you remained on the opposite side and hesitantly did the same, "Okay...about what?"

The angel took a slow intake of air. His eyes darted over the bowl and candle thing, then over the sigil underneath. He leaned forward and spoke quietly enough that you had to do the same just to hear his words, "About your dreams."


	8. A Day With The Angel

"What do you see now?" asked a deep, angelic voice from somewhere.

"...It's the same as before."

"Explain it again."

You took a deep breath and tried your best to recreate what you were seeing with words, "I know they're demons -- I can see their eyes. They look sort of...indifferent, even though they know their vessels are being torn limb from limb." You concentrated, feeling the edges of the vision start to go hazy, "They're sort of accepting fate--"

His voice interrupted you, and now it seemed to come from a certain direction rather than all around you; you knew this meant that the spell was wearing off, "And who's killing them?"

"It's Sam. I can feel it."

Another question was asked, but by this point the hallucination was bleeding into reality and you were having trouble with most senses. For the third time that day you felt the uneasiness of the magical properties disentangling themselves from your mind. Your head automatically fell lazily forward, but this time you were ready and set your arms forward to catch yourself. Unfortunately, your left hand landed straight onto a lit candle.

You cursed loudly. The phrase "first impressions are everything" applied most, you realized, after fading back into reality once a spell lost its effect. Not only was the pain twice as bad as it might have been in a normal setting, but thanks to a mishap during a hunt the day before you were already sporting a small, but painful, knife wound on your stomach.

Castiel picked up the candle you'd knocked over and went and sat down next to you to inspect your wound. You winced when he touched it, but he didn't seem concerned, "There will be no permanent damage if it's treated soon." He sighed, "If I had enough power to heal you myself, I would."

You left your hand resting in his and gave him a pitiful stare, "That's enough of this dream stuff for today, yeah?"

By the look on his face you knew that he would prefer to continue, but alas he nodded and said, "Alright."

He helped you stand, then took you away from the "dream room" and back to Sam and Dean's hotel room. You walked over and sat down on one of the beds, feeling slightly proud of yourself for finally getting the hang of sudden arrivals in new places instantaneously. The angel asked what you needed and you informed him of all the things required to treat a second-degree burn, plus where they were probably located. After a minute or so he sat down next to you and watched as you fixed your hand.

A few seconds of silence passed, filled by nothing but the sounds of you trying to ignore your own pain, so you spoke, "What're you thinking about?"

"Your dreams." He answered truthfully with little hesitation.

"What about my dreams?" you removed the damp cloth from your hand and began loosely wrapping bandages around it.

"I'm trying to understand how you can see future events." He perpetuated one of your favorites of his habits by casually lying down on the bed to stare at the ceiling, "Unlike Sam, your psychic abilities seem to have started only _after_ Lucifer was released from his cage. I'm not even sure why these visions 'started' in the first place."

"Maybe I'm cursed." You suggested casually, tying up your palm with the last of the bandages.

"No. The sigil we've been using for the dream spell wouldn't have worked if you were cursed or already being afflicted by another spell."

You laid down next to him and admired the fine handiwork of your bandaging abilities, "You know, none of it started happening until I met you."

He paused, "I've considered that, but it's possible that you've had these visions long before and just never realized. The only reason I know about them is because you talk in your sleep."

You were about to go off about how there was no way you could be doing such a thing for so long without realizing, but your train of thought crashed into his last sentence, "Wait, wait...So you've been watching me sleep?"

"Of course not. I've got much more important things to do than constantly pay you attention." You said a sarcastic thanks and he continued, "Every so often I use my spare time to check in on all of you. Your sleep schedule is more erratic than you believe."

"Awesome." You gave up on trying to debunk your so called "psychic abilities" for the time being. Instead you changed the topic to your unofficial relationship with your angel, "You know what we should do sometime?"

"Stop Lucifer and the apocalypse while we still can?"

You grinned and rolled your eyes, "Well, that. But we should go on a date. Like a real, generic date at some real, generic diner."

"Okay."

He began to sit up, but you held out your arm to stop him, "Not now. Soon, but not now."

He frowned and lay back down, "Why wait?"

You propped yourself up on your elbow to look at him. You nodded to the clock on the wall with a smile, "Well for one, it's one in the morning. And two, you look way more cute laying on this bed than you would in some diner."

He glanced at you with a face devoid of confusion, so you figured he was finally starting to catch on to your flirtation. You removed your weight from your arm and placed your hands on his chest, then slowly leaned in for a kiss. He accepted it and placed a hand on your back to keep you there for a slow, savoring kiss. Despite how much you wanted to further the kiss (as you often did), your limbs remembered how much they were aching and your brain kept trying to get you to yawn. You kissed him once more, pecked his cheek, and then rolled over to the pillows to indicate your sleepiness.

Castiel sat up, but didn't stand. You yawned and watched him watch the window. Your mind wandered to the dream sessions, whose spells were undoubtedly causing your state of fatigue, and you decided to voice something you should have asked already, "Why don't we just tell Sam about the visions?"

He looked at you and tilted his head. He looked a lot less stressed in that moment than he had in ages, "Do you think he wants to know about them?"

You frowned, "Yes. Wouldn't you?"

His gaze didn't shift from yours, but he paused, "...I don't know."

You exhaled deeply, "Okay, listen. I'll tell him about it and if he thinks we should  _really_ look into it, we will. If not, no more secret witchcraft room dream searching. Okay?"

"...Okay."

At this point, you'd known Castiel long enough to understand when he was being distant and when he was being Castiel. With concerned determination, you moved over to sit next to him and furrowed your brow, "What is it?"

He took your hand, whether consciously or not, and held it in his as the two of you often did in such close proximity. He frowned and spoke after a few seconds of thought, "I'm not as sure as I originally was about finding my father. I've searched in nearly every place I can think of and...nothing. I've tried using that amulet and attracting his attention and following the advice of one of my brothers, but...I don't know what to do."

You stared at your angel for a moment, then took a deep breath and placed both your hands on his face, "Castiel. You're an angel. The whole reason you dropped out of Heaven was because you had -- because you  _have_ more faith in God than any of your brothers or sisters, yeah? I know times are bad with the apocalypse and all, and it's kinda the end of the world, but things could always be worse. So why lose faith now? Faith is something I've never really had, but I'm starting to realize it's pretty damned important. Now the last thing I want to hear is that you're giving up just because things are getting ugly."

There was a long minute of silence following your words. You kept your hands on his face and your look stern, however, because even if what you'd said hadn't been what he'd wanted to hear, you were standing by those meaningful few sentences. The silence began to go on so long that you started to wonder if he'd broken his promise and was reading your thoughts, but when you mentally cursed very colorfully to gauge his reaction and he seemed to have none.

Now your worry was starting to show on your face, "Cas are you--"

Abruptly, he moved his face towards yours and grabbed your waist with his arms just in time to cut you off with a passionate kiss. Your mind went through all sorts of stages of surprise, but your body answered almost immediately with as much intensity as you could muster. You allowed him to take control, which he used to his advantage by massaging your mouth with even more kisses and leaning you back down so that you were, once again, laying on a bed and making out with your angel.

His tongue traced tentatively on your bottom lip. His hands were resting dangerously on your thighs. His breath was so warm against your skin that you felt like you were being groped by a heater.

When you acknowledged it and let his tongue slip past your lips, things instantly became more heated. Both your jacket and his trenchcoat found their ways to the floor, then two pairs of shoes followed. His lips departed from yours and moved to your neck, where they rested briefly in several different places. He let his mouth find its way back to yours when one of his hands began groping at one of your breasts.

Just as you managed to unhinge the knot on his tie, he broke the kiss to breathe and murmured, "I should be somewhere else."

You answered him only after the next break for breath and began to unbutton his shirt, "What? Why?"

He went to respond, but when you kicked your pants off he pressed his lips onto yours once again and traced a hand across your naked thigh, delicately. You moaned a little more loudly than you'd intended and finally managed to unbutton the final section of his shirt when he, seemingly reluctantly, pulled away from you.

He left a hand on either side of your head and looked down at you sternly, "I really need to go, I apologize."

You crossed your arms and spoke up at him, "What's more important than this?"

His face flickered an emotion or two, but as usual he was too good at disguising them, "I trapped a demon and I need to interrogate it before it escapes."

You stared at each other for a long moment, then he sat up and began buttoning his shirt back up again. You frowned and got behind him, then wrapped your arms loosely around his neck and pressed your chest against his back as a sort of payback for his busy schedule, "You're interrogating this demon as a way of finding God?"

"Yes. Well, hopefully." He finished with his shirt and glanced at the rest of his clothes on the floor, "I'm sorry, (y/n), but I only need to go to Russia for a few minutes to get information from the demon. After that I'll be back here. May I get my clothing from the floor now?"

You huffed a "fine" and let him go so that he could get ready to leave. You laid back down on the bed and watched him unhappily, but still with a bit of amusement.

When he was almost done, you put your hands behind your head and got his attention. You raised a brow and gave no indication that you meant to put your clothes back on, "You're going to leave me here half-naked so that you can go smite some demon in Russia."

If you'd ever seen regret on his face, it was then, "Five minutes."

"Five minutes." You agreed. With that you heard the soft flutter of angel wings and he was gone. Over the next few minutes you got under the covers of the bed and sat in silence. Your brain kept trying to remind you that the Winchesters could back in the hotel at any moment, considering it was  _their_ room, but you were either too anxious of Castiel's return or too tired to care. Before the clock on the wall had even indicated the three minute mark, however, you found your eyelids closing shut on their own accord. Within seconds you were sound asleep and snoring quietly.

You dreamed about Sam killing demons.


	9. In Search of...

"This is Dean's other  _other_ phone. You should  _not_ have this number."

You cursed at Dean's voicemail message once again and threw your phone onto the old table in frustration. You glanced at the clock on the wall. _Thirty-four hours,_ your brain reminded you,  _thirty-four hours and counting they've been missing._

"(y/n), you alright?"

You ran a worried hand through your hair, "Bobby, they could be dead. It's not like them to go this long without checking in. The only things they have with them are their phones and the freaking Impala."

Bobby took a deep breath and went back to flipping through a book containing a few contacts of his as he spoke, "Maybe they got caught up in a hunt. I'm sure they'll turn up soon."

"Are you the least bit concerned?" You grumbled, pacing impatiently.

"Yeah, I am." He said defensively, "I just have a different way of dealing with it."

With that he picked up a phone and dialed a number. You knew it wasn't Sam or Dean, considering your only job for the past ten hours had been trying to get a hold of them. Needless to say, it'd been a stressful day.

"Frank." Bobby greeted into the phone, "Where you at right now? Atlanta, got it. You seen Sam or Dean lately? Yeah, the Winchester boys. No, didn't think so. Alright, thanks anyway."

As usual, your heart lifted lightly and sank heavily between the question and answer part of the conversation. You realized your pacing had slowed, so you sped it back up again and went over everything in your mind for the third time that hour: You'd woken up in the boys' hotel room -- no surprise there. You'd been a little skeptical that they'd yet to return, but of course they could have stayed a night somewhere else or even needed to head out of town for a little while. Obviously you'd investigated both of those claims later on and come up with nothing, which meant they couldn't have left town unless they didn't want to be found. After that you'd immediately called Bobby, who suggested that you get Cas to bring you to his place so the three of you could investigate. Since then, you and Bobby had stayed at his house for the past day and a half, rifling through Sam's laptop and Dean's maps for clues. Eventually, when your stress was starting to show, Bobby had begun calling any of his contacts that might have any idea about the boys.

You racked your brain again and again for something you might have missed. As usual, you had jack shit.

Bringing yourself back to present time, you paused your pacing and looked up at Bobby, "Do you think Cas has something?"

Bobby pulled the receiver away from his face, which you hadn't realized he'd been speaking into, then looked at you, "Woman, whatever gets you to calm down, do it. You're starting to freak me out." He put the phone back to his cheek and said, "Yes, I'm listening. Just repeat it, will ya?"

You forced yourself to breathe slower and sauntered into the kitchen. You sat down on one of the chairs and positioned yourself so that you could see most of the room, then murmured something you'd heard Dean say when he  _really_ needed Cas, "Castiel, I pray to you now so that you can get your ass down here and tell us what you've found out."

You waited thirty or so seconds, then got irritated, "Come on Cas, I need you here. I'm starting to stress myself out."

Another thirty seconds passed and you turned to "drastic" measures, "Cas, sometimes you can be a little sh--"

Someone cleared their throat behind you. You rounded yourself on the chair to look at your angel and muttered, "You have the most impeccable timing sometimes."

Instead of questioning your statement he changed the subject, "I think I know where they are."

You stood from the chair in surprise and hugged him, "Thank God. I mean...nevermind. Where are they?"

"They were tracking down a trickster. I believe they're caught in some sort of alternate reality."

You let go of him and took a moment to process what he was saying, "So, theoretically, they're just out somewhere with the Impala having a two-day acid trip?"

Cas thought about your metaphor and nodded, "I suppose it's like that."

You smiled in triumph and grabbed his hand, pulling him with you to the living room and calling at Bobby, "Bobby! You can stop with the phones. We know where they are."

Bobby stopped mid-dial and looked at Cas, "Where's that?"

Cas repeated what he'd told you. Bobby frowned, "And how are the three of us supposed to get there?"

"Without a powerful witch, the three of us can't." The angel stated, "But jumping between realities is similar to time travel. I could probably make it there and back on my own."

"Probably?" You repeated.

He sighed, "Yes. Unless I can manage to kill the trickster while in his reality."

You sent Bobby a look. He nodded once in understanding and wheeled over to his desk. He opened one of the lower drawers and took out a wooden stake.

Cas let go of your hand to walk over and pick it up. He examined it quickly and said that he'd better leave before the trickster did too much damage.

"Good luck." You and Bobby said in unison.

Your angel disappeared. You took a deep breath and lay down on the couch, "So now we wait."

"Yep." Bobby agreed, then went to say something else but a phone on the wall rang.

You tuned out as he answered it. Your eyes wandered to the clock and you watched dreadfully as the minutes ticked by. Within an hour or so you felt yourself falling asleep, thanks to the ten hours of coffee and stress finally catching up to you. You didn't dream.

 

 

The moment you woke up, you jolted upright. You felt like you'd taken a short nap or been asleep for only a few minutes, but whereas the room had been decorated by shafts of sunlightbefore, it was now bathed in complete darkness.

You looked down and realized you were still on the couch, but someone had draped a blanket over you. You rubbed your eyes and glanced at your phone on the table, then slowly felt the memories come back to your mind. The Winchesters were missing and Cas had gone after them.

As soon as you began to worry about your angel, you heard the sound of his arrival. Sure enough, he was sitting down by your feet within seconds.

"Sam and Dean are fine." He said before you could ask.

"What happened?" You questioned, leaning toward him and running a thumb over a bloodstain on his coat with a frown.

He watched you as he spoke, "The one who was manipulating reality for Sam and Dean was not a trickster; it was Gabriel."

You looked up at his face and raised a brow, "Your brother Gabriel?"

He nodded solemnly. You thought it over for a moment, "It makes sense, I suppose. A trickster is almost the perfect cover for a rogue angel...that or a god."

While the two of you sat in silence, you allowed yourself to finally relax. The brothers and your angel were going to be okay.

"What time is it?" you asked with a yawn.

He didn't look at the clock, but answered you all the same, "Around midnight."

You blinked in astonishment, "I've been asleep for twelve hours. What have you been doing?"

"Waiting for you to wake up."

You bit your lip and smiled, then reached over to squeeze his hand.

He looked at you and smiled back, but dropped that smile almost immediately, "I need to show you something."

You noted the seriousness in his tone and nodded, "Of course...anything."

Your angel stood and waited for you to do the same. You dropped the blanket onto the couch, then followed in suit. In less than a second, your environment changed.

It seemed to be lighter than Bobby's, despite the still surrounding darkness, and it took you a moment to realize you were outside. The source of light you'd noticed was the moonlight shining down on the path in which you and your angel stood. You squinted toward the end of the path, but your vision wouldn't allow you to see farther than a few yards in the darkness. The next thing you noticed happened to be how cold it was. You reached your hands up to your upper arms in a (somewhat futile) effort to warm yourself.

Castiel realized what you were doing and began to take off his trenchcoat, "Here."

He handed it to you. You smiled and took it gratefully. Once it was on, Cas reached over and took your hand (even though only half of it was outside the sleeve) to intertwine your fingers with his, then began to lead you down the dirt path.

You walked at his side in silence, fully aware that if he wanted to tell you something, he'd say it. Every once in a while you'd glance at the moon or your angel's face. When you looked away you always caught him looking back at you in the corner of your eye, but neither of you said anything. 

The walk continued for a few more minutes until he slowed down and eventually stopped at, what you realized, was a bench. In front of it was a small running stream, and a thicker band of trees seemed to surround it than any other part of the forest.

He waited a moment, then dropped your hand and went to sit on the side of the bench that faced the stream. You followed, but sat down the other way so that you were facing the path you'd just been on.

You looked at Cas and waited for him to speak, which he did, "This is where I go when I pray to my father."

Your mood went from playful curiosity to slight melancholy, but you tried not to show it, "Ah."

He stared at his surroundings in silence. You spoke up again, "You know, I don't think I've ever prayed to Him." You smirked in realization, "The only person I've ever prayed to is you."

Still he said nothing, so when you turned your head to the left to make sure he was still breathing, you were caught by surprise with a sudden kiss. You closed your eyes and tilted your head to get a better angle, then sat like that for what felt like a long while.

When he pulled away he stayed relatively close and his blue eyes seemed much larger than usual, "I brought you here because this place means a lot to me...just like you."

You smiled over a wave of emotion and leaned in to kiss him again. He accepted it and you felt one of his arms wrap inside the trenchcoat and around your waist. For the second time, you stayed there with his lips against yours for ages.

This time you broke it off with a smile, "Thank you for taking me here. And for letting me wear your coat."

"You're welcome."

You stared into his eyes for a few more moments. His hand remained around your waist, so you inclined your head towards his neck and hugged him tightly. He responded in the same way and kissed the side of your head.

You absorbed a few more minutes of that feeling, then turned your head to look at the path once again, "As much as I'd love to sit like this for the rest of eternity, I'm freezing my ass off."

He took a deep breath and nodded, "Would you like to go back to Bobby's house?"

"No." You let go of him to look down at the stain on his coat that'd been bothering you since you'd put it on, "Let's go to a laundromat. Blood stains can be a real bitch."


	10. Sweet, Sweet Irony

You and your angel made your way briskly through the doors of the Virginian church, attracting the eyes of a few patrons sitting on benches with bowed heads. Or rather, your angel speed-walked through the front room and toward a door on the opposite wall while you followed slowly behind and apologized to those he interrupted. It occurred to you that you'd never seen Castiel in a church. You'd always figured he'd feel more "at home" in one than anywhere else, but it seemed to be quite the opposite. You made a mental note to interview him about it later.

Just as he reached the door (and you finally managed to disgruntledly catch up), a man in full black and a white collar stepped out of it. He was initially startled by Cas standing directly in front of the door, but he recovered himself and smiled.

"Welcome to the West Valley Church. My name is Father Wesley. I don't believe I've seen you two at the service before."

Cas looked immensely irritated at the fact that the man wouldn't move from the doorway. You cleared your throat, "No, we're new to the area and we were just checking out the local churches. I'm (y/n) and this is Castiel."

Father Wesley smiled and shook your hand, then held it out for Cas to shake. You jabbed him with your elbow and he shook the man's hand with a deliberate look of boredom. The priest held his smile despite your angel's rudeness, "Named after the angel, hm? I suppose you have very religious parents?"

"You have no idea." You said, then stopped yourself from chuckling at your own joke, "Would you mind showing us the library? Cas is a  _huge_ fan of books and we hear you have quite the collection."

"Well, I'm not one to brag," the Father grinned and motioned toward his collar, "obviously; but it just so happens that we were blessed with a large donation of extremely aged religious text a few years ago. Some say we contain the largest biblical library in America."

You faked enthusiasm, "That's incredible! We had no idea."

It seemed to work, because the balding priest led you and Cas to a door on a separate wall, down a short hallway, and through another door. Inside the last room sat walls aligned with shelf after shelf of large, dusty looking books. A few had Latin titles, you noticed.

You thanked him and he turned to you once more with a smile, "Happy reading. I do hope you and your husband can join us in prayers this afternoon."

You paused with a slight blush and went to correct him, but at that point Cas was across the room and searching for a book out of earshot so you played along, "Right. Thanks again."

He went through the oak door and back down to hall. You took a moment to peer around the huge room and admire the aisles and shelves and stacks of books sorted everywhere. You also noticed that the only other person in the room was a woman who was sitting at a table with her nose buried in a very ancient-looking document.

Your angel caught your eyes and motioned for you to come over. You moved over to the section he resided in and stood at his side to peer into the book he had already been reading.

"This doesn't look very ritual-y." You commented after a quick skim of the page.

"I told you, it's not a ritual." He flipped a few pages forward before continuing, "We need to find something that allows non-human beings to communicate with other non-human beings."

"So a ritual."

He gave you the 'I don't have time to explain this to you' look and hastily placed that book back on the shelf in favor of a larger, thinly-spined maroon one. It took him about ten seconds to decide that that one was also worthless and that it was so unworthy of his time that it preferred to be placed back on the wrong shelf.

"Cas."

He was about to reach for a book on the shelf next to your arm, but stopped and looked down at you instead, "What's wrong?"

You peeked around the corner to make sure the woman at the table wasn't listening, but just in case you grabbed Cas' elbow and brought him to the end of the row between two shelves. You tried to ignore how fantastic he looked in the lighting at such close proximity, "Well for one, what is it with you and this church? Please tell me we aren't in some super anti-anything-nonhuman congregation or something."

He shook his head, "No, nothing like that. I'm not comfortable in churches in general."

You prompted him to go on. He took a deep breath, clearly wanting nothing more than to be done with the conversation and out of the building as soon as possible, "Any house can be declared a house of God. Most churches don't even have proper protection to keep out demons and demonspawn. Humans think that throwing a cross on any old thing will make it religious."

You raised a brow at the "humans think" part. He sighed and apologized, "Sorry. Can we get back to researching now?"

You remained in the way of the book your angel seemed to want and stared at him for a long moment. His impatience was starting to lead to he stressing himself out, and he stressing himself out was starting to stress you out. So instead of standing there and doing nothing about it, you did something that usually tended to make him more relaxed.

You stood on your tiptoes and pressed into him with a soft, slow kiss.

His arms wrapped around you and yours around him, after which you felt him physically relax. After a little while of that you smiled and bit his bottom lip playfully. Whether he wasn't in a "playful" mood or he simply needed to do what he did next, you had no idea. As soon as you released his lower lip from your teeth, Cas did something he'd never done before. He pushed you against the bookshelf and, with his body pressed against you, grabbed your ass. 

You nearly jumped and, admittedly pleasantly, blushed, "Cas--"

He cut you off with a kiss that left you wanting more and then inclined his head to kiss your neck in teasingly slow intervals. You had to bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning, which would no doubt be utterly embarrassing. Of course your angel seemed to want that more than anything as he touched various places on your body and left a trail of slow kisses on your jawline. More than once you stopped yourself from opening your mouth to say something because that would no doubt lead to unintentionally making sounds that you should  _not_ be making in any sort of public setting.

Finally his mouth found its way back to yours and stayed there for a debateably fair amount of time. One of his hands had moved to your hair and he was now tugging on it in a manner that had you biting your lip once again.

With a slowly realized epiphany, you managed to let out a few breathy words between acts that were becoming less and less PG, "You're groping me in a library...in a church......and you're an angel."

He had gone straight in for a kiss after that last statement before he'd really listened to what you'd said, and now that he knew it he gave a rare, genuine smile that completely ruined the passionate kiss he'd gone in with. You smiled broadly back until one of his legs ground between your thighs and had you making out with him again.

A strong voice sounded from the end of the corridor, "As much as I  _really_ don't want to break this up, I'm gonna need you guys to knock of the PDA for a minute and listen up."

You and Cas both jumped, completely startled by the surprise guest. You untangled yourselves and despite the situation you felt yourself smiling. You looked down at the end of the shelves and instantly lost your grin. It was the woman who'd been sitting at the table mere minutes ago.

She had black eyes.

Your angel said nothing. You half expected him to step in front of you as some sort of shield, but he didn't, and you were glad he hadn't. He did, however, squeeze your hand for only a second or two, then let go.

The demon took a step forward with a devious smile. She dropped the book that she (or the vessel she was occupying) had been reading and took a few more steps forward. Your angel tensed up and you glared at her.

She looked between the two of you and shook her head, still smiling, "Castiel, right? Daddy told me to tell you how happy he is about you finally getting a girlfriend. He's also sorry that I have to kill her."

You continued to glare at its black eyes and tried not to show your slight curiosity. The pistol you'd raised seemed to do nothing for anyone but make you feel more safe, so you held it up as you asked, "Daddy?"

Her right eye twitched and she looked straight at you. It seemed to be the question she'd been waiting for, "Lucifer."

She smiled again and turned her head back to Cas, but by the time she realized her mistake she was being smote in a flash of white light. She only had time to scream as she died, but you wondered what her last words might have been. You kept your gun up and walked past Cas and other rows of bookshelves, swinging your pistol around in search of other demons.

"He only sent one." Cas said when you'd nearly finished a full sweep.

"How do you know that?" You asked curtly.

"It was supposed to be a surprise attack. Lucky for us, demons like to gloat."

You stared at each other for a few more seconds, then you put the firearm back into your belt and hid it with your shirt once again. He picked up the book she'd carelessly dropped on the floor and flipped through a few pages.

You watched him in astonishment, "Really?"

He didn't look up, "Hm?"

With a sigh, you walked over and pulled the thing from his hands. He looked less surprised than you hoped he would. You frowned, "Satan wants me dead. Thoughts?"

He frowned in return, "If my brother truly wanted you dead, he would have killed you himself by now. He's testing you...I think."

"You  _think_?" you repeated, feeling slightly horrified, "Are you saying that, at any moment, Lucifer could pop in here and kill me with a snap of his fingers?"

"Yes. Well, not literally."

You searched Castiel's face for any sign of worry or fright, but threw your hands exasperatedly into the air when you found none, effectively tossing the book to the floor and turning on your heel. You huffed over to the table that the demon had been sitting at in a slight state of panic. On the one hand you did have an angel to protect you, which was basically the only being that could at least slow Satan down. On the other hand you couldn't have your angel with you one hundred percent of the time, and chances were that he would know exactly when and how to attack you if he so desired. Great.

"(y/n), I think I found something."

You took a deep breath and forced yourself into present issues, "What is it?"

"The man who wrote this book seems to know of a way to speak with gods directly, but he states that 'such a spell is too powerful to remain on any paper'. Do you think--"

"Yes." You stood from the plastic chair and looked over at your angel, "Where does he live?"

"Somewhere in Virginia." He furrowed his brow as he skimmed the back cover of the text.

"Well, as long as we're staying here." You pulled your wallet from your back pocket and thumbed through the bills you had at hand.

He shifted his weight onto one foot and frowned, once again allowing the church to cause him anxiety, "I don't understand."

You sauntered over to him and left a kiss on his cheek, "We're getting a motel room and renting a car for a while."

"I don't see the point." He stated honestly.

You rolled your eyes, "We need to find out where in Virginia that author lives, then we're taking a night off because I need to sleep."

You glanced down at the corpse that had formerly been the demon's vessel and sniffed, "You should probably get us out of here before the priest finds us in here and tells the local news we killed her, though."

"Good idea."

You looked up into your angel's big blue eyes and felt as the room around you became something new.


	11. Coffee, Cop Dramas, and Witchcraft

"I still don't understand why--" your angel tried to argue again.

"Because if you're going to wake me up at four in the morning, we're getting coffee. Now sit."

He obliged to your command with a few annoyed mutterings in Enochian. You ignored him and sat down on the other side of the couch with legs crossed Indian style and your body turned toward him. When you gave him a slight glare he did the same. You then took a sip out of the coffee cup in your hand, practically feeling it rejuvenating you already, then handed it to Cas.

He took it in one hand and stared at it ungratefully, "You know angels aren't nourished by--"

"Drink."

He sighed and lifted it to his lips, then tilted it back for a hesitant sip. Once he swallowed he handed the cup back to you and continued to stare at it, only with more interest now.

Your mouth was ready to frown or smile depending on his reaction. You held the drink in both hands and felt the curious sparkle in your eye as you awaited his opinion, "So? What do you think?"

Again, the only way to describe his face was thoughtful, "Warm."

You rolled your eyes as you took another sip, "As it should be. What else?"

"Perhaps...bitter. But there's something else about it."

That smile you'd been hoping to show hopped onto your face, "That's what I thought when I first tasted it. Of course, I had a caffeine rush afterward that threw me off from the stuff for a while."

"You know, since I'm not exactly a 'full angel' anymore," he tore his gaze from the coffee and looked at you, "a large amount of of this could probably cause me a 'caffeine rush'."

"I thought about that when I bought it, actually." You winked at him, "I'm one step ahead of you."

Cas watched you take a few more drinks, then took a deep breath, "We should go meet with the author now."

"It's 4:45. If he's up by the time we get there, he won't want to talk. If he isn't, we're stuck sitting outside his house." Your angel made an unamused face and you scoffed, "If you can wait five hours for me to sleep, you can wait five hours for me to wake up."

He made the 'I'm not happy but whatever' face and got up from the couch. He shifted his eyes to the floor and held his hands behind his back as he paced between the TV and the coffee table. For a good while you just leaned back on the sofa, sipping at your drink and following your angel with your eyes. He was too stuck in his own head to mind your staring, so you didn't look away.

After an amount of time you were too bored to account for, you decided it was better to watch time-consuming television than to stare at Cas for hours and allow him to make you stressed about nothing. You found the remote wedged between the two cushions on the couch and pointed it at the TV. Apparently an angel obscuring half the screen was not good for connection.

"Cas."

He stopped abruptly and looked at you with a questioning stare. You answered it by patting the cushion next to you. He obliged quickly, then took the coffee from your hands as you searched for a decent show on the shitty motel cable plan. 

You grinned as a familiar cop drama projected itself onto the screen. You leaned back and got yourself comfortable.

"You know, I always thought these shows were super stereotypical and cheesy, but now that I'm actually keeping up with one it's pretty interesting. Some of the criminals seem so..." you ceased the conversation when you glanced over at your angel to see him tipping the coffee back at a sharp angle, "Did you just drink all of my coffee?"

He set the empty cup on the table and stared at the screen, "I like it."

"The coffee or the show?" you asked, more amused than annoyed.

"The drink. I don't understand this 'acting'."

"They're just pretending. Like I do and the boys do with our badges." You nodded to the far counter where you'd set the new FBI and CDC badges Bobby had given you, freshly occupied with your face and a name you couldn't bring yourself to remember. You'd have to work on that.

Cas simply stared at the TV, so you sighed in slight exasperation and did the same. The minutes changed to hours at a pace that was too fast for your realization: Possibly because your angel had given the show such rapt attention that you yourself were enjoying it more than ever. At one point one of the lesser main characters was shot twice in the stomach, but, to your relief, still alive and on her way to the emergency room. After the screen went black and and an anxiety-filled commercial break ensued, the woman was shown walking with her friend past the street where she'd been shot and the bottom of the screen read "One month later."

 _"You know, there's something I never told you about the day I was shot."_ She stared at her feet.

Her friend stared at her,  _"A month ago? Listen, I don't wanna know if you were egging the guys on or something like that--"_

 _"No, nothing like that."_ Her gaze moved from her feet to the face of her friend. The dramatic close up, uneasy music, and the sheer look on her face caused your breath to catch in your throat,  _"When I was shot......I was pregnant."_

You literally gasped and Cas tilted his head. The screen shown something about when the next season was to be aired.

At some point during the marathon you'd sidled up to your angel and the two of you were currently cuddling in a position you were somewhat fond of. You looked up at him as best as you could without moving your head from his chest and smirked, "Acting isn't so bad now, is it?"

He shook his head slowly, "I suppose not. It was a bit confusing and contradictory, but at least it was entertaining." He glanced at the clock on the wall and carefully moved you so he could get up, "It's almost nine. Let's go see the author."

You allowed him to get up and then did the same with a click of your tongue, "Someone's impatient."

You then grabbed your coat and keys for the rental car.

"Must we take the vehicle?"

"Yes." You frowned and headed for the door, "If I'm paying for it, we're using it."

Instead of arguing he followed you quietly out to door and to the old red Alero. He sat in the passenger seat and continued to say nothing until you handed him a map of the city and surrounding areas.

"What's this?"

"A map, dummy. I don't just know how to get to the guy's house."

Cas found the address and instructed you along the route. He seemed extremely unamused by the whole "driving like normal people" thing, but at least it forced him to stop the incessant pacing he was forming a habit of when he got too stressed. His solution to dealing with stress in the car was to stare perplexedly out the window and not hear you the first few times when you asked a question.

"So what are we going to do if this doesn't work?" you asked as you stared ahead at the mostly open road, somehow thinking he would listen and answer immediately.

"Castiel." Still, he paid attention only to the dozens of trees you zoomed by. You sighed and waited for his ears to register your words, "Cas. Listen. Are you listening? Hey, angelface--"

"Angelface?" he repeated.

You blushed slightly and ignored his judging look, "It's not my fault that's the one you heard. I asked about what we're going to do if this doesn't work."

"It has to."

You frowned with concern, taking your eyes off the road for a few seconds to look at your angel, "Cas, I'm not trying to set us up for failure or anything like that, I promise. It's just...we can't expect all our efforts to be a success. Sometimes it pays to have a plan B."

When you tore your gaze away to continue watching the road, he turned back to the view out his window and, you guessed, pondered what you'd said. The rest of the ride was silent apart from the somewhat lame pop songs playing as background music on the radio. Thankfully the ride was only about twenty minutes longer because you absolutely could not stand when your angel ignored you. In your mind it was the same as ditching you to go God knows where for whatever amount of time.

"I think we're here."

Cas peered down the street through the windshield at one of the larger, older looking houses, "That's it."

You pulled into the six-car driveway (which was empty save for a newer silver Mercedes and a dusty old red pickup), turned off the engine to the rented car, and tried to keep up with Castiel's quick pace as he made his way to the front door. He knocked on it several times, waited a few seconds, and went to knock again but you stopped him and muttered about how the two of you should make a kind first impression.

The oak wood swung back and a stout man with dull silver hair and a matching groomed beard glanced between the two of you. He looked as if he expected one of you to pull a gun on him, but after a moment he looked at Cas expectantly.

"Er, hi. George Underwood?" you waved politely so that he'd stop glaring at your boyfriend and start glaring at you, "We came here about a book you wrote in 1974--"

"We need the spell used to communicate with gods." Cas interrupted. You sighed and held your tongue before you could get mad about "avoiding subtleties."

The man looked between the two for what seemed like a long time, apparently assessing your seriousness. It didn't usually take people too long to decide that Cas wasn't exactly the "joking" type. Nonetheless, this man stared intimidatingly until you cleared your throat in hopes of moving the "conversation" along.

George spoke gruffly and moved to grudgingly allow both of you inside, "We'll talk. Go sit in the dining room."

Cas made a move to head straight up the spiral staircase and investigate, but you caught him by the arm and steered the both of you to the huge open space that was most likely the dining room. The two of you sat down at the table which was clearly made to fit at least twenty people. George seemed to be taking his time with whatever he was doing, so you decided to use the timeframe to calm down your angel.

You were going to waste precious minutes trying to calm him with words, but all day that's all they seem to have been; a waste. Instead you sat sideways on your chair so that you faced him, waited for him to do the same, and kissed him on the lips. Due to the awkward angle and imminent arrival of the house's owner there wasn't much room to get comfortable. Luckily he understood and appreciated the gesture anyway. When you broke away he caressed your face for a brief moment before you both got comfortable in the chairs again and silently awaited George's presence.

Not soon enough, you heard the sound of footsteps approaching and a casual tune being whistled in sync with those steps. Both you and Cas stood in greeting. You shot him a glance that said 'what's up with the whistling?' but he simply shrugged in reply. You question was answered when the man that walked through the entryway was not George Underwood.

His whistling stopped abruptly when he noticed you and your angel. He was of average height and build with dark hair and dark clothes to match. He stood casually with one hand in a pocket and the other holding a keyring containing more keys than you could count on sight. His posture tensed for a moment as he looked you and Cas over, but after that brief second or two he relaxed and smiled. His smile was something you could only describe as stunning.

He looked from Cas to you and nodded in greeting, "I hadn't realized we'd be having guests. You smell lovely."

You ignored the fact that he could smell you across the room, "Erm, thanks. Where's George?"

He must have noticed some sort of urgency in your voice because he lost his smile and toned down his charm a bit, "Ah, you're here on  _that_ kind of business, eh? I'm guessing I was told to head to the safe to get the sacrificial bones for a spell?"

Cas opened his mouth to explain, but you shushed him with your words as to avoid a situation like the one you'd had earlier, "You guess right. Are you here on business too?"

He smirked and shook his head, swinging the keyring around on his index finger, "Nah. I sort of...work here."

"At his house?" Cas questioned.

The man shrugged. You glanced around at the somewhat clean interior and raised a brow, "So you're what, a butler?"

He bellowed a laugh and shook his head again, "God no." Suddenly he got a serious look on his face, as if actually considering it, and made an irritated face, "Well, kind of."

Neither you nor Cas knew what to say. He looked you both over, grinned again, and clapped his hands together, "Well, I should get to that safe before ol' Georgey gets mad and injects me with poison. I'm Emil, by the way."

Before you or your angel could answer, he whisked himself away through another door. You did your best to brush of your confusion. For once, you may have actually been just as confused as your angel.

The two of you went to sit back down just as George appeared at the bottom of the staircase and yelled, "It's almost ready. Get up here so we can discuss payment."

You sighed and prepared yourself to go all the way up the spiral stairs, but suddenly you were in a room you'd never been in. Dangerous amounts of symbols and sigils you'd never seen before lined every surface. The walls were bare expect for two lit candles and a door with a few unlocked locks.

Winded, you winced after getting a brief look around and turned to Cas for answers, "Where--"

"We're upstairs." He answered as he began looking in an alter on the table you'd yet to notice.

You wanted to tell him that he shouldn't be wasting his powers like that or that he shouldn't be so impatient, but you instinctively became too curious for your own good and moved to his side so he could explain the altar to you. A huge, old book sat in the center of the table. It was surrounded by a few short candles sporting pink flames and an empty bowl.

"What is it?"

He looked it over thoughtfully, "I'm not sure. Something of extreme witchcraft. I've never seen a book like this."

You followed his gaze, "It's in Latin, yeah? And...what's that language on the side?"

He took a deep breath, "Enochian."

"Ah." You glance at his face and had to take a double-take, "You don't look too excited about this."

"This was stolen from an angel." Cas breathed out as if he'd been holding his breath.

You were genuinely concerned with his well being now, "Cas, what's wrong? Who was it stolen from?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but just then the door swung open and George waddled in. He stopped immediately when he saw you and glanced back out the door, "How did you--"

"It doesn't matter." You waved it off and nodded at the altar, "Where did you get this stuff?"

He let the subject of your teleportation go and shook his head with an intense scowl, "No information and no spell until you pay me."

"Fine." You sighed and pulled the wallet from your pocket, trying your best to ignore your angel's fretting over the book, "How much?"

"Twenty-five thousand." He glared at your astonished face, "Cash."

"I don't even have--" you shook your head and put the wallet away, "No. Come on. Do we look rich to you?"

He shrugged. Cas tore his attention from the altar and stated, "I'll get the money."

You grabbed his arm before he could disappear and said, "No! You're not robbing a bank for some stupid spell."

"This spell isn't stupid--"

"If this takes longer than an hour I'm kicking it up to thirty thousand--"

"Will you two just shut up so we can figure this out--?"

"I've got the bones!"

Emil appeared behind George in the doorway with his charming grin. He realized he'd walked in at the wrong time and his smile faltered, but he held up a package and nodded encouragingly, "You need these, yeah? I'll just, uh, leave them over here."

He set them down on the altar and turned to leave, but you stopped him, "Wait!"

He raised a brow. You realized that you needed to act on a whim and steal everything you needed for the spell or pay the man thirty thousand dollars. Since you didn't happen to have thirty thousand dollars, you decided to go with the first option.

You grabbed the book (which was a lot heavier than expected) and the package and turned to Cas. George's eyes went wide as he realized what you were doing and dived for a drawer on one of the cabinets on the far wall. You assumed he was searching for a weapon, so you explained your plan as quickly as possible to your angel, "Get us out of here. The first place you can think of," you glanced at Emil, "and take him with us."

You couldn't see him in your peripherals anymore, but you guessed George had pulled out a gun because Cas immediately followed your orders without question. You, him, and Emil instantly found yourselves outside a shabby old house in foggy weather. You figured you were no longer in Virginia, but you didn't have much way of knowing. Cas began briskly moving up to the porch. You shoved the book into Emil's arms and followed.

Emil stood in the street and stared at his surroundings, wide-eyed, "What the--where the Hell....?"

You motioned for him to follow the two of you to the door. He obliged, completely doe-eyed and in awe.

You shot Cas a look before he could knock, "Where are we?"

"This is my Plan B. We're at the house of the prophet I told you about."

"Chuck?"

He nodded. You smiled at the concept that he'd listened to you about having a backup plan and rang the doorbell. No one answered, so you rang a few more times to alert the prophet of your urgency.

The door opened and the man behind it rubbed his eyes and yawned, "It's great that you guys are visiting and all but some of us like to sleep at this time of the.....you aren't the Winchesters."

It was silent for a moment. You cracked a grin, "Nope."

"We need to use a room to perform a spell." Cas interjected.

Chuck blinked a few times and looked at the three of you, seeming slightly overwhelmed, "Castiel? And...(y/n)? And....who's that?"

You glanced at Emil, who looked shell-shocked, "That's Emil, we need him for the--"

"Wait, Castiel?" Emil breathed, "Like, the angel Castiel?"

Cas gave him the 'I don't have time for this' look. Emil stared into space, "Oh God, what am I getting myself into?"

Chuck stepped aside and Cas walked right past him and into his home. You smiled at the man and followed your angel. Emil was only a few steps behind, but still too shocked for words.

Chuck gestured around the shabby place, "Welcome, I guess. If I'd known  _you two_ were coming over I would've made it a little more comfortable..."

He trailed off. You fell into the realization that, as a prophet, Chuck knew things about you and Castiel's relationship that not even the Winchesters did. You blushed slightly and watched as Cas surveyed the living room. Chuck still seemed comfortable with the whole thing, but still with a state of uneasiness, as if he expected something to go horribly wrong at any moment.

Maybe that was how it went when the boys visited.

You shrugged off the thought and turned your attention to Emil, whose mental well-being should probably be affecting you more than it was, "Emil, it's alright. You can leave right after we get this spell in order. Emil? Emil, are you brain dead?"

He shook his head back into reality and smirked slightly, "Undead, brain dead, what's the difference?"

You blinked a few times, "Wait, you aren't human?"

He snickered, "Of course not."

You glanced at Cas from across the room. He'd begun to move furniture around and looked up momentarily to shrug at you.  _Okay, so he's not a demon._ your subconscious informed you. Instead of furthering the matter you ignored it and went over to help your angel create an open space in the living room.

"Anyone want food?" Chuck called from the kitchen.

"Yes!" You called back, glancing momentarily at the two dark-haired, non-human men in the room, "But I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that you and I will be the only ones eating."


End file.
